#he's Very Very Very Very prone to frustration when it comes to his own abilities

[carbonateddelusion]

edgar has a complete crying meltdown over the fact that his food came out with a weird texture and was Bad and he Messed It Up and just fucjing collapses on the floor and neither of his beefs know what's going on <3

[lightgriffinsect]

a little thing i noticed about amanda's character and wanna talk about

Spoilers for Amanda the Adventurer under the cut:

One thing I've noticed - and is probably very easy to notice - about Amanda as a character, as least from what we see as Riley watching the tapes, is that she's very confrontational. She's very quick to take matters into her own hands.

One way we see her do this is by wresting control of the playable parts of the show, like where you have to type in an answer and decide to troll her because come on, we all wanted to do that to Dora the Explorer when we were kids. And like where you intentionally pick the wrong option 3 times and she either gets rid of the wrong options entirely (see how she gets rid of the fridge and sink in In The Kitchen, forcing you to pick the pantry) or replaces them with something you can't pick (she replaces the fruits in Everything Rots with organs and only brings the fruits back after you resort to clicking on the rotten sandwich.)

Another way is how in the second viewing of In The Neighborhood* when all the buildings are replaced with meat shops, forcing you, Amanda, and Wooly to enter one. She demands you to help her pick out a special treat, which being obviously impossible, causes her to get more and more angry. She snarls "Let me out of here" and somehow manages to break all of you out of that shop, where we then find that all the other shops have been restored and then burnt to the ground.

-> This shows that she obviously has some control over the affairs of the in-show universe. She can control what you choose and even what you type in the blanks. And she's very quick to use it if she believes you're messing with her.

-> It also shows that she may not understand the extent of her own powers. She believes it was you, Riley, the viewer, who corrupted the shops in In The Neighborhood. But as far as we know, the MC has no control over anything that's happening.

It's thus possible that Amanda could have somehow accidentally triggered that change in the episode and not realized it. And given how prone she is to frustration and helplessness, she may believe that it was you/Riley who caused it and subsequently take her rage out on you.

Or it could be Wooly. No one seems to really know his exact role in this game, myself included. It's possible that he may have abilities of his own that give him limited control over the show as well, if to a lesser extent than Amanda does. However, this does beg the question of why he would corrupt the game like that. I think Wooly as a character is very interesting, and honestly he probably deserves his own post theorizing about him, so I'll go no deeper into this for now.

Anyway, I really just made this post to highlight how in a fight or flight situation, Amanda is most likely to pick 'fight'. And I wanted to talk about how that might tie in with Rebecca as Amanda.

It's hinted at that Rebecca was, probably because of Hameln's influence, accidentally OR intentionally trapped inside the show, and specifically inside Amanda. She may even be a spirit trapped and forced to pilot a husk of a character herself, as it doesn't seem to me at least that Amanda the character has a will of her own. As far as I can tell, the scenes of her anger all seem to be Rebecca.

This makes me wonder. Was Amanda herself only ever meant to be a happy-go-lucky Dora-esque character? Did the confrontational attitude only stem from Rebecca once she was trapped inside the show?

I think that's possible. We know from Coffee Break, where Sadie interviews Sam Colton, that Rebecca was a source of joy and kindness in her life. Despite her troubled past from before Sam adopted her, she was known to be loving and optimistic, and I think Sam would have wanted Amanda to emulate those same qualities, back when Rebecca was playing her in the live-action version. Before Hameln purchased the show and turned it into an animated series.

So I believe that Rebecca only adopted the harsh, sarcastic, cruel demeanor that slips through in the show after she was trapped with no way out. By extension, Amanda, who is almost certainly her vessel, is the one we see acting on these qualities. Rebecca is devastated at the loss of her father, and possibly bitter towards Hameln if she ever realized what they may have been trying to get her to do. (Summon demons, as seen in the tape of Rebecca recording lines with Sam and the Director.) While I do doubt this, since she's like 10 with very little potential knowledge of demonology, it's possible that after being trapped in the show for so long, she has become cynical and quick to anger, rushing the plot along when you troll Amanda one too many times.

This also might explain why Amanda doesn't fully understand her own capabilities. She takes matters into her own hands and forces you to pick the right option for relatively petty things that she understands how to control. Aside from that, she doesn't seem able to stop the corruption of the stores in the second viewing of In The Neighborhood*. She comes to the conclusion that it must be Riley, you, doing this and gets angry with you for not playing the game right.

So if Amanda really is Rebecca, that would make a lot of sense as to why things get changed or corrupted to the surprise of us, Wooly, and her. Sometimes she exercises her control with full understanding of what she's doing, and other times she doesn't even realize it's happening because of her. And she becomes angry and, intentionally or not, confronts us and takes away our power to influence the show through our answers.

Orrrrr maybe I'm just being really nitpicky about this lmao.

In conclusion, MatPat has pretty much finished the game and he's already working on a theory, so I'm excited to see what he has to say about all this!

Thanks for reading my long post! I really like this game and I had fun coming up with a theory for it!

--------

*I actually don't remember if this was the exact name of the tape ^^ please bear with me here

[celestesparlour]

lore: AU where cwilbur stayed in limbo, believing to have been seduced by the abyss; i have this personal hc that cwilburs limbo was created as a testament to his heritage as the goddess of death (mumza)'s son; mumza has been trying to reach out to her son throughout his entire time at limbo but limbo's power strengthened overtime, due to cwilbur's need of "punishment".

in this AU however, cwilbur never got out of that mindset. he now aimlessly traverses throughout what's outside the train station, as he subconsciously expands on the labyrinth of limbo.

i refer to them as limbobur, but i like to think her human name to separate her from the other burs would be pandora ^-^ !!

i also like to think she eventually gets out of her limbo- just now exploring the depths by mumza's side after her attempts at reaching out to him had finally reached him though, but her experiences in limbo would leave him scarred for life.

personality wise- limbobur's more cut and dry, always and straight forward because he doesn't have much space for words; years of limbo torn his ability to speak properly, so they speak either simply or make shortcuts through their echolalia. their knowledge on social interactions and social etiquette in general has long since faded, so they often come off as a bit too blunt on other people, and it's also hard to tell when they're joking since he speaks in a flat voice. they're usually quiet, their eyes searching left to right for what's ahead.

he, most of the time, smiles and laughs- though it's usually never out of genuine mirth, but rather to express fear, stress and nervousness. they often smile and laugh inappropriate situations. with this in mind asides from just their behavior in general, they're easily judged as the heartless type- though that isn't the case. i think he's a very quite emotional person deep down, just has very little to express despite it however. he hardly does, unless he is slightly on edge- their frantic nature becomes incredibly well known,

he has outbursts where he rambles on and on about things until his words just begins to slur in with one another. they also have a bit of a tendency to shake a lot, and get easily overwhelmed by sensory stimulation. whenever this does happen, they have a bad habit of pulling their own hair or clenching their fists so tight. they tend to be quite skittish, and full of anxiety as well as intense self loathing. just a sopping wet cat that isn't very obvious due to the seemingly cold exterior that they never really meant to put upon

he forgets to eat and sleep very often. but whenever they do eat, they're very picky about what they eat. whenever they do sleep, they don't mind sleeping anywhere- even in the most unconventional places like in the bathtub or on top of the lamp. they're very gullible, prone to deception as he would trust anyone but their own instincts. they hate staying around idly, preferring to do something like cleaning even if the room is already clean.

they're bad at functioning as a person in general, but they don't mean harm; they often try their best to be as helpful as they could; they want to be helpful. they despise being useless or not moving around, they fear being an inconvenience more than anything, they chase around for projects and for a purpose to serve; that's the reason why they fell "in love" with limbo in the first place, he had nothing else but limbo, so even when limbo was his personal hell, he clung onto it as its designer and architect.

but they have forgotten how people act, it gets very frustrating for them to understand how people work nowadays. it's one of their main goals to understand people again, in such a way, but he fears that they have already sensed he's far too disconnected; perhaps this is why he's weak to being deceived- it's so easy to, when he doesn't know much about anything, but if you nudge him into "helping you" then he will.

i like to imagine they would get along best with ghostbur who would be the most patient, though i feel like they have multiple instances where they both don't understand each other's tendencies very well, and that creates a lot of situations where they fuck up a lot; l'manbur likes them but whenever they try to help him with things, they end up messing it up really badly. limbobur feels immense guilt over those things, and l'manbur doesn't have the heart to tell them "no" even though he knows limbobur's very job at doing jobs. revivebur is scared of them, because he can immediately see that's who he would have been. they're more prone to doing dirty work for pogbur, who can easily convince them of anything. so does 100pbur. i don't know what their relationship with the others will be, but this is all i thought so far!

[gamesception]

Sception Reads Cass Cain #20

Batgirl (2000) #6 Story: Peterson & Puckett Art: Scott & Campanella

Alright back to the main comic, and the end of the Psychic Wizard Language Tutor mini arc. For all my complaints about this direction, these issues have been strong, and this one is maybe my favorite in the arc. It is in fact so good that I'm compelled to do what I said I wasn't going to do anymore and just go through the whole thing from front to back and comment on how great each scene is in order.

We open on this little bit with David Cain, reinforcing the themes of fatherhood, reiterating the premise from the previous issue that Bruce is in denial over Cass's past, and pouring his booze down the drain - suggesting that the visit from Bruce has jolted David out of his depressive episode and given him the motivation to take a more active role, which promises danger for everyone supporting Cass in her new life.

More of Cass just adjusting to how much putting a name to things changes them, and I do like her smile there, that she's not just unhappy with losing her powers, she's happy about this new world that's opened up to her.

Again, I don't like this story direction, but I do like the characterization we're getting from it. And I guess if you thought Cass being this basically supernaturally gifted martial artist took the suspense and excitement out of fight scenes with random goons then you might appreciate this change, but, honestly, when is there ever a question of who will come out on top in a fight between one of the bat family and random goons? I've mentioned in the past that I liked how Cass's super powers, for lack of a better term, gave the writers an excuse to very quickly gloss over fights where the outcome wouldn't have been in doubt regardless, but Cass doesn't stay depowered for long so it's really not worth getting into.

....

The psychic guy has a backstory, it's very generic, very much what you would expect. Not bad, but, like, if we had to have this guy, he could have been more of a character.

This bit where the psychic guy is explaining what he did to Cass, and Bruce is realizing what that means, while hearing the gunfire from the fight she's having at the same time, and than kind of panicking and running off to save her is great. Funny reaction face, very worried poppa behavior. We like that.

So then we get this bit, where in the confusion of the fight one of the goons accidentally shoots and kills one of the other goons, and it drives home for both Cass and the reader that the cost of Cass's lost abilities is measured not just in her own bruises, but also in lives lost. Before losing her powers, this fight would have been over in a moment and nobody would have been shot in the process. Now that the words are slowing her down, now that she can't read body language... she's still an expert martial artist, she still has all the skills her father drilled into her, but the fight takes longer and she has less control over it, and people die.

And of course Cass is furious - at herself, at this new lack of control, but also at the guy who actually shot the gun, who becomes a too-convenient outlet for her anger.

I apologize for posting three full pages back to back, but this is such a good and important scene, and there's just so much going on here. Cass, without the easy confidence of her powers and the control it gave her over the combat situations she found herself in, is taking out her frustrations on random goons. It's petty and vengeful and very Batman-like, and also a marked change from how Batman described her just two issues ago:

We get the sense that the 'Gentle' batgirl described in issue 4 wasn't the result of Cass processing anger different/better than Bruce does, but rather that she just didn't have much anger to process most of the time. Guilt, sure, but not anger. Without her powers she's prone to face a lot more failure and frustration, which will mean a lot more anger to deal with, and actually it turns out she handles anger pretty much exactly like Bruce does, by inflicting physical violence on 'someone who deserves it'', and with combat skills are all specifically meant for killing, that's not great.

And Bruce, fresh from his recent encounter with David Cain, he's not immediately thinking of the similarities between Cass and himself in this moment, he's seeing David's killing techniques, and starting to doubt her again.

The bit at the end, where Bruce is scolding her, and Cass is realizing she fucked up, when seeking substitute fatherly approval from Bruce is like half of why she does any of this? It's a little sad and a lot funny.

Great stuff. I may miss the silent protagonist aspect of Cass's first couple adventures, the story-telling through pictures rather than words aspect, but the core emotional conflict is still very much there, and the writers and artists are still executing at the top of their game, particularly Damion Scott's work, which is not just super expressive but also still detailed and controlled and specific and readable, elements that his work in this title will kind of move away from as his style shifts over time.

But that's a discussion for later.

....

Anyway, skipping over a bit Bruce & Cass grab the evil scientist responsible for giving psychic guy his powers and also hiring all the mercenaries to go after him, and they take both out to a cabin in a forested area outside the city so they can ambush the mercenaries away from any innocent civilians who might get caught in the crossfire.

How do the mercs know where to track them too? I think maybe it was established somewhere that the psychic guy gives off trackable magic brain waves maybe? I don't know, not important.

Cass at first thinks she's part of the ambush but...

Yeah, girl's still in trouble, and Bruce still doesn't trust her.

But while Bruce is busy taking out one group of mercs, a separate group approaches the cabin from the opposite direction, forcing Cass into the action after all.

She's still skilled enough to take out the group of armed goons, but without her body reading abilities she again isn't able to do so without one of them having the opportunity to get a shot off, and once again one of the other goons is in the line of fire, only this time Cass is in a position to put herself in the bullet's path.

So she does, because of course she does. Self-sacrificial penance being the other half of why she does any of this.

They really are so alike.

And the issue closes with Cass recovering in the Batcave, her first time there actually, and restoring Bruce's faith in her (and his denial over her past), by calling back to him scolding her over her instincts earlier in the issue.

...

So yeah, it's good! It's very good. I wouldn't say it erases my criticisms about the changes in direction taken in this arc, since I think the good stuff here still could have happened otherwise, but whatever, it's good and that's what matters, at least for now. We also have a solid new status quo at least in terms of Bruce's feelings toward and trust in Cassandra, albeit one with an unstable foundation of denial. There's still open questions of whether she'll get her 'powers' back, or how she'll function without them. And while we know thanks to hindsight that she will be getting her powers back pretty soon, I do feel the last couple issues have amply demonstrated that she could have continued as Batgirl without them, and honestly I kind of wish she had, but we can get into that stuff later.

[puppyexpressions]

How To Stop Overstimulated Dog Biting

Does your dog get easily overstimulated? Does he tend to bite when this happens?

If this is something you’re struggling with, there are ways to prevent your dog from biting when overstimulated.

Here’s everything you need to know on the topic.

Why do dogs bite when overstimulated?

Overstimulation is a problem for many dogs. Unfortunately, dogs tend to lose control of themselves when they get too stimulated. This can result in unwanted and even dangerous behavior.

If your dog starts biting when he gets overstimulated, this can be frustrating to deal with. It might also make you nervous to take your dog to places, or even just to be around him!

If you are dealing with a dog that bites when overstimulated, there are ways to help him. First, though, it’s important to understand what overstimulation is in the first place.

What is overstimulation?

Knowing what exactly overstimulation is can help you make sure that your dog does not reach this point.

Basically, being overstimulated means that so much going on around your dog that his senses overload. Dogs then tend to lose control and start doing things that they know they’re not supposed to. Biting is one example. To stop it, you need to keep your dogs’ arousal under a threshold. Overstimulation tends to be very common in puppies, but it can happen in adult dogs too. 

How do you know if your dog is overstimulated?

When dogs get overstimulated, they tend to show certain signs and symptoms. Unfortunately, many of these signs are the same they’ll show for other issues.

Boredom, for instance, can also result in bad behavior like biting. Your dog might get mouthy because he’s trying to tell you that he wants attention and something to do.

Dogs may also show the same signs if they are getting overtired. It’s important to make sure that your dog is getting enough sleep during the day. Most adult dogs sleep around 10 to 14 hours a day. Puppies sleep even more.

So how can you tell if the problem with your dog is overstimulation or something else? The best way is to look at the context.

Is there a lot going on around your dog? Or have you been more active with him than usual? Then the issue is probably overstimulation or being overtired.

If you’ve been doing less with your dog than normal, then your dog is probably just bored!

Causes

There are lots of things that can trigger overstimulation in dogs.

Some dogs generally tend towards higher arousal than others. That means that it’s easier for their brains to become overwhelmed with everything going on around them.

This can lead to overstimulation—which then leads to your dog biting even when he knows he shouldn’t.

Unfortunately, this is a very common issue with rescue dogs.

Adopting a dog from a shelter or a rescue is a great way to make a difference in a dog’s life. But many of these dogs come from difficult backgrounds.

They may have more trouble with some aspects of life than a dog that came from a reputable breeder. Some of these dogs might be more prone to overstimulation.

With rescue dogs, you might just need to practice a little more patience and understanding. They might require a little extra work, but saving a rescue dog is incredibly rewarding!

Do dogs bite when overstimulated?

Not all dogs will bite when they get overstimulated. But this is a common issue for many dogs and owners who struggle with overstimulation.

Dogs who are in a state of overstimulation don’t know how to control themselves anymore. It’s not that they’re refusing to listen to commands on purpose. The problem is that there’s so much going on that they lose the ability to make their own choices.

That means that some dogs will start biting even though they know they’re not supposed to.

Your dog will likely show other symptoms too. He might start running around or barking or crying incessantly.

Is my dog overly excited or aggressive?

It’s never fun dealing with a dog that won’t stop trying to bite you.

But it can be stressful if you think your dog might have some aggression problems.

Biting is a normal part of being a dog, and many dogs bite gently as part of playtime. As your dog’s human, you need to teach him that humans don’t have fur to protect skin like dogs do. You need to show him better ways to play with people!

But if your dog shows other signs like growling, baring his teeth, or lunging at you to attack, those are signs of aggression.

How to stop overstimulated dog biting

We’ve covered the basics of why your dog is biting when he gets overstimulated. But what can you do to get him to stop?

Check out these pointers!

1. Stop the fun immediately

Playing with your dog is a great way to spend time with him. Unfortunately, his playtime could be exactly what’s overstimulating him.

So what can you do? The first thing that needs to happen is that the fun needs to stop.

If you keep playing, you’re only going to get your dog even more excited. You may also end up unintentionally rewarding the behavior since you’re still giving your dog what he wants.

As soon as your dog gets so overstimulated he starts biting, it’s time to stop playing. Hold completely still until he’s calmed down. You might even have to leave the room if he’s still trying to get you to play with him.

Only start having fun again once your dog has settled down.

2. Keep calm

Dogs are highly intuitive animals, which means that they can pick up on others’ emotions—and yours!

You might not even realize it, but your dog probably mirrors a lot of your feelings! That means that when you start acting too excited, that’s going to hype your dog up too.

On the other hand, acting calmly will also help your dog stay calm.

That’s why it’s so important to model calm behavior for your dog. Your dog will see the way you are acting, and he’ll start to understand that he should act the same way.

By acting calm, you’ll also avoid accidentally stimulating your dog even more.

3. Observe

Paying attention to what exactly gets your dog overstimulated is one of the best ways to help him.

If you don’t know what specifically is getting your dog so excited, it’s going to be hard to prevent it from happening.

Make sure that you are paying attention to what is triggering these feelings in your dog. Once you know, you’ll be able to avoid them if you can. You can then reintroduce the stimuli to your dog in a more controlled way to help desensitize him.

4. Tire him out

Some dogs get overstimulated more easily because they have too much pent-up energy.

You should make sure that your dog is getting a healthy amount of exercise every day. Just remember that too much activity could also trigger overstimulated dog biting.

Pay close attention to your dog and the exercise you’re giving him to make sure that it’s not too much or too little.

5. Reward good behavior

When you’re working on behavioral issues like this, using positive reinforcement dog training is the most effective thing to do.

This means that you’ll ignore behavior that you don’t want to continue. It also means that you’ll reward behavior that you do like, and so reinforce it.

When your dog makes good choices like not biting during playtime, reward him. You can give him a treat, or simply continue playing.

Rewarding generally calm behavior will also help. When your dog is relaxing, give him a reward to get him to keep that behavior up.

[in--somnium]

((I feel like Cassia comes across as really sweet for a couple of reasons- the most obvious being that her dad is also very kind and he instilled that on her from a young age. Like... her mom isn't great (and actually never wanted kids in the first place ^^;), but her dad did his best in raising her and she carries a lot of his selflessness and such with her for that reason.

But it's also that... She's spent almost her whole life having to learn to self regulate. She got her first powers when she was really young. Like, so young she doesn't even actually have a memory of NOT having them. Her parents found out about her abilities when she was barely 4 years old because she was telling them about a dream she'd had that was actually a dream her DAD had and she'd just been dream-walking, she just didn't know it. (She rarely has dreams of her own and it took a long time to not accidentally dream-walk all the time. Even as an adult, when someone else's dreams are really intense or she's been stressed out for the day, she does it without realizing). So this girl has lived, as far as she's concerned, her whole life with magic abilities in some form or another. Dream walking, inducement, and manipulation came first. Then she showed signs of telepathic abilities which lead into her being able to manipulate emotions and, eventually memories to some degree. And, more recently, her telekinesis, which used to be fairly minor, has gotten really out of hand - her powers are ever expanding as she gets older which makes it hard for her to keep control of them all. And, as with a lot of powers, hers are affected quite a bit by her emotional state. Realistically, she hasn't got the greatest control of her telekinesis, for example. When she's stressed out sometimes things will tremble around her or items will fall off of shelves or walls for seemingly no reason. If she's in a really bad state, then it can get more dangerously out of control. (Recently, actually, even more minor stressors can cause bigger reactions because she has less control of her telekinesis overall.) But if she can stay grounded and calm then she can keep it under control, focus that energy inward on herself instead of projecting it outward and causing chaos. Then there's the fact that she can manipulate emotions, too. So she's had to be careful about how intensely she's feeling things because there have been times when her emotions have been so strong and she's been so out of control of her powers that she's projected them onto everyone around her. (Her parents divorce, for example, left not just her a fucking mess, but she realized that she was projecting that hurt and frustration and guilt on her entire class when it welled up too much and got out of hand. And because different people react to different emotions in different ways, it led to a classroom full of out of control kids. Some of the kids were crying. Others were fighting- like, literally fighting. One had a full blown breakdown and had to go home because she was in such a state of disarray. The teacher had to call for help because she was so overwhelmed between the chaos and the grief she was feeling that she couldn't manage the class. Cass went home early that day because she realized what was happening and it stressed her out so much she literally had to run to the bathroom to throw up. And soon after she went home... things started to calm down.) So what I'm saying is she is almost always actively trying to keep her mindset in check, trying to stay rational instead of emotional, keep a positive attitude even when she wants to scream, because she knows she could hurt someone (or herself) if she's not careful. And I just feel like that's a really important thing to consider about her character. It's not that she DOESN'T get pissed off easily (in fact, I'd say she gets frustrated quite quickly and is also prone to holding grudges, sometimes even to the point of pettiness), it's just that she knows if she lets things get to her, she won't have as much control.

It also doesn't help that she hasn't had all of her powers from the start. She's gained some new ones as she's gotten older, and with each new ability comes new hurdles. New things to be aware of and worried about. She tries to take it a step at a time and not stress about it constantly, but when she feels herself getting a bit out of line emotionally, she has to correct herself. So... yes, she's a sweetheart. She's my little ray of sunshine. Sweet baby girl. But it's not just because she's always, naturally, like that. It's a choice. It's an attempt to keep herself together. It's not an act, necessarily- she really is very sweet- but it's something she often has to actively maintain so she can keep control. She has, of course, learned better control of some of her powers (and her father has been helping her to train with her telekinesis because that's one of his strongest abilities- though he can't help with a lot of the more internal things like her emotional / memory manipulation because he doesn't have those abilities). That doesn't mean, though, that they don't get out of hand sometimes. It also doesn't mean that she isn't often worried about losing control of them.))

[thebitterflamingo]

In the BLINK of an Eye

While fighting with Vanya, Five makes his fateful trip to the future. It’s ok. He knows his way back… theoretically. The only problem? He can only copy powers, and unfortunately the dead don’t count. It looks like he won’t have the chance to apologize to his sibling for a very, very long time.

aka

Five has Lila’s ability to copy powers and Number Seven has his teleportation/time travel abilities. When Five time travels during a fight, he’s stranded.

Notes: Number Seven is referred to as Vanya in the beginning for timeline purposes. He will be referred to as Viktor in the future.

=======

Really, it was a stupid argument. In fact, Vanya can’t even remember precisely what it was about, except that it killed her brother.

Five remembers. He remembers everything about that day, and tries to hold on to the rest. On cold nights, he searches his memory for his sibling’s smile, but too often all he remembers is her snarl. And that’s all he has, all he’ll ever have, because now she’s dead.

🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼

They both remember how it ended, but it started like this. 

It was an innocuous day at the academy, innocent and like any other. That is, except for the fighting. Five and Vanya were fighting, which happened rarely, if ever. Vanya was quiet, more prone to crying at confrontation, and while Five had an abrasive personality, something softened when he was around her.

This was not the case today, as their raised voices echoed throughout the academy, ricocheting from the tall ceilings.

“Having Dad on my case is normal, but now you? I thought you had my back, Five.” Vanya’s eyes were wide, glimmering with tears she wouldn’t let fall and perhaps a bit of steel. Five would be proud, if the glare wasn’t directed at him.

“I know the old man is a hard ass, but I’m saying — and you know how much it pains me to agree with him — that this time he may actually be right,” Five shot back evenly.

“I’m never good enough for him. I’m never good enough for any of you, is that what you’re saying?!”

“All I’m saying, Vanya, is that you could push yourself more. Who knows what your powers could do-“

“I can teleport, isn’t that enough?”

“Yes, but what if you could go further?” Five started, voice now raised in excitement instead of frustration, “According to my experience with your power, I have a theory. I just think you aren’t reaching your full potential when you could possibly-“

“So now you’re more of an expert on my powers than me??” Vanya seethed. 

Five broke off, eyes wide. 

“Well at least I have my own powers, instead of piggy backing off of others!” she shouted.

Vanya shoved him, and though not exceptionally threatening, Five instinctually copied her powers and jumped. However, this time was different than the few times before. 

Perhaps it was inexperience. In spite of his theoretical knowledge of jumping, Vanya was the expert on her powers, and Five’s use of them was still novice at best. 

Perhaps it was that they were talking about time travel, and Five had been thinking through the theoretical mechanism before Vanya interrupted.

Whatever the case, Five disappeared, like many times before.

But unlike before, he didn’t come back.

🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼

At first Vanya is angry. When Five disappears, it only makes her angrier. 

There he went flaunting his ‘mastery’ of her powers and leaving her without a target for her frustration. 

The flame quickly cools when he fails to reappear.

After a few hours, it turns to concern. 

It takes a bit longer for Reginald to get involved, but after a few days he finally orders a search of the academy, then the surrounding area. After only a few more days, he calls off the search. 

Five is dead, or as good as, as far as Reginald is concerned.

It’s then that Vanya’s anger and grief turn into guilt. 

She might as well have watched him die. She might as well have killed him. She was the last to see him. The last thing she’d said to him had been aimed to hurt. And then her powers had gotten him into this mess, whatever it may be.

From the way her siblings look at her, with pity and perhaps a bit of suspicion, she certainly feels like a murderer. She avoids them and it’s easy. Maybe they were never really close in the first place. 

Maybe they’re afraid they’ll disappear next.

Unlikely, since Five was the only one with the power to replicate powers and Vanya had only ever been able to teleport herself, but she stops using her powers just in case. Vanya slowly grows more remote. She does what she does best, and disappears.

Still, some part of her waits for Five. She leaves the light on and makes him sandwiches he’ll never eat. 

She waits for him to come back, to prove that she didn’t kill him, to her siblings and herself. And she keeps waiting, every new day silent and damning.

🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼

Vanya knows Five is gone, but it takes her awhile to realize he’s never coming back.

Five, on the other hand, realizes he’s never going to see Vanya or the rest of his siblings again rather quickly. He knows as soon as he wakes in a barren wasteland, alone, except for her dead body beside him. 

At first, he doesn’t really realize what’s happening. All he knows is that the sister he’d just fought with is dead and dammit no matter what she said she’s his sister.

He thinks maybe he screamed. He definitely cried, more, he quickly realizes, than can be afforded in his new desert home.

It doesn’t take him long to find the others. He buries them, an easy feat in the powdery soil, but he’s not sure how long they’ll stay covered with the constant harsh wind casually rearranging the dunes of sand. 

His grief is quick, like ripping off a bandaid.

The next forty five years are not.

🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼

Ironically enough, Five does become an expert on Vanya’s powers in the ensuing years.

It doesn’t take him long to figure out time travel got him into this mess (the future-dated newspaper he finds unfortunately confirming his hypothesis). His dead siblings also look quite a bit older than he left them. He can’t bear to look at the bodies too long, but he definitely doesn’t remember Diego having a beard. 

So, after diagnosing the problem, Five does what he does best, and works to find a solution. 

Problem solving has always come naturally to Five, a valuable skill when his power relies on copying whoever is on the battlefield at any given time and he has to think on his feet. It has a rather opposite effect on his people skills, however. Turns out people don’t like to be ‘diagnosed’ or told how the could be better, something Five realizes upon his five hundredth replay of his and Vanya’s fight. 

He buries the pang of guilt and gets back to work.

Unfortunately, that’s where Five hits a snag. Namely, no matter how much of an expert Five may be on Vanya’s powers, he can’t use them without her present (and unfortunately the dead don’t count).

He mulls over this problem for about forty-five years before the woman shows up.

She offers a solution, a way out, a chance to see Vanya again and apologize, a way to maybe save everyone.

How could Five refuse?

🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼🎼

[dhampiravidi]

demigods & gods high fantasy RP forms

My Plot

Kerea is the hydrokinetic demigod child of a human woman, Desna, & the god Teras, whose realms are healing, rivers & childbirth. Teras hates the god of deception/cleverness & business, Vhuren, because cities tend to destroy nature & Vhuren often makes deals w/mortals & gods that stab them in the back. Kerea's mom forbade her to use her powers because then she'd be sent away to be a priestess/considered gifted. Vhuren "happens" to see her use her powers when she uses them to "save" him (he's pretending to be human/a demigod working as a god's champion).

---

Kerea's Form

Full Name - Kerea Desna of Yesenia

Age - 23

Personality - She is an introvert. She spends lots of time with just a handful of people at once, disliking crowds. Oddly enough, she loves loud music. Her favorite activities include reading, swimming, debating & looking at art. She’s very introspective, weirdly funny & admiring of the small things. On the flip side, she gets deeply frustrated when a seemingly easy task is hard for her & she equates taking a break with failure. Because of this, she is a hard worker, which helps with her career(s). She’s also incredibly loyal and protective when it comes to her friends. Unfortunately, she has trouble valuing herself & in a relationship, she might never believe that her significant other loves her unconditionally.

Appearance - She is a 5'3" (1.6 m) young woman. She takes after her mother, so she has light brown skin (with warm undertones encouraged by lots of time in the sunshine), curling (shoulder-length) dark brown hair, even darker eyes, and curvy hips (yes, she’s slightly chubby as well). She prefers casual clothes & minimal makeup, usually limited to eyeliner.

(FC: Kat Graham)

Abilities

Hydrokinesis (including cryokinesis)

Prone to Getting Hot Quickly

Basic Medicine (mom runs an apothecary)

Literacy

---

Vhuren's Form

Name While in Disguise - Reynard Nero of Falfax

Age (Pretend Age) - 2000+ (30)

Personality - He is an extroverted, easygoing person who can be classified as a social chameleon. Some would consider him to be the perfect businessman, because he uses his confidence & way with people to easily manipulate them for his own ends. He's used to be independent & many assume he prefers to work alone for this reason. However, he secretly feels lonely when he's not part of some people's inner circles. He tends to have a dark sense of humor.

Appearance - He has dark, wavy hair that he keeps at the nape of his neck. His body is toned, but more lean than thick & his skin is perfectly tanned. He keeps his moustache & short beard trimmed. He's typically seen wearing the clothes of the wealthy, however, his shoes are always well-worn, like he's a traveling salesman. In his human form, his irises are chocolate brown, but they may flash orange if he becomes overly excited. Similarly, in his godly form (which stands about a foot taller than his human form, at 7') his eyes are pitch black, with only a ring of orange making up each iris. He also has nails that can extend into claws, plus sharpened canines.

(FC: Peter Gadiot)

Abilities (not including typical godly powers)

Superhuman Intelligence

Superhuman Reflexes

Greed Enhancement

Tendency to Cause Mischief

[xaracosmia]

ꕥ — WELCOME TO EXO COSMIA, SIFFRIN. 🌑

ꕥ  — OOC INFORMATION;

name / alias: Finch age: 28 pronouns: he/they/it ooc contact: catboycharon on twitter or toxicwrench on tumblr other characters in xc: kokichi ouma, sou hiyori, yomiel

ꕥ  — IC INFORMATION;

name: Siffrin age: mid 20s pronouns: he/they series: In Stars And Time canon point: post game app triggers: self harm, suicide/suicidal ideation, memory Loss/modification, mentions of eye trauma, child death, hallucinations, psychotic breaks/unreality

[WOW BIG IN STARS AND TIME SPOILERS! TURN BACK IF YOU WANT TO PLAY I GUESS?]

personality: 

If asked, Siffrin would describe himself as a laid back, “funnyjokespun” person. He appears easygoing and even a bit jovial, never able to take much seriously beyond a surface level. Relaxed and perceptive, if a bit prone to zoning out or dozing off, Siffrin easily fades into the background until he has a pun to share. Even then he doesn’t actually speak up much, preferring to listen to others talk with only a few comments of his own. It’s easier that way, getting to be present without having to carry the conversation himself. Paired with how he rarely shares his inner workings, personal feelings, or even background, Siffrin can come across as aloof and mysterious. It might not seem like he even cares all that much, generally just going along with whatever’s easiest or immediately funny. That is until he does whatever he can to protect those he cares about. Or says something incredibly concerning. Either or, really. 

On the inside, Siffrin cares more than they can put into words. More than they can say without finding it embarrassing. They like helping others, getting people to smile, both selflessly and selfishly. Both are true in that Siffrin wants to make others happy simply because they deserve it while also wanting to appear better so others will keep them around. They cling desperately to what they love, dig their claws in, try so hard to be useful, wanted, to say the right things. Siffrin cares a little too much. But they can’t say it, because, well. It’s too much. That’s the point, right?

For as much as they say they’re fine, they’re very easily overwhelmed and anxious, always struggling against their emotions and past experiences. Siffrin doesn’t know how to deal with many of their problems, doesn’t know how to verbalize them or feel deserving of help and as a result has gotten very good at running from them entirely. Even if they know what’s wrong they often refuse to think about it, as most times they do they blame themselves and sink into a self deprecating spiral. Whether or not something is even in their control Siffrin is cruel to themselves, barely able to understand that they’re lovable without having to manipulate others into feeling that way. The loops exacerbated it all, Siffrin’s self-destructive tendencies given the ability to run rampant without consequence, both physical and mental. He wasn’t particularly stable even before they started, but it’s only gotten harder and harder to hide since then. There’s no way to understand them without knowing why they’ve grown to be this way. Their forgetful nature is more than meets the eye, Siffrin quite literally cannot help how much they forget when their memory has been punched full of holes. It frustrates them to no end. They can be as perceptive, as clever, as well versed in something as they like and, inevitably, things are lost. 

They’ve never managed to learn how to cope with grief. With mourning. With forgetting. 

With letting go. 

Siffrin isn’t very good at any of it. They don’t want to lose anything else. It’s inevitable, but they try, really! 

It’s fine. He’s better now after having to spill his guts and accept help. For as difficult as it is for him to open up, for as much as he prefers to keep all the ugly, desperate thoughts to himself, Siffrin has seen what it can lead to. So he has to– has to make an effort not to fall into the same habits.

…It’s… Not fine. But maybe it will be, eventually.

something your muse struggles with: Remembering is always a good start. Places, people, events, words, you name it! They struggle to accept loss and cope with grief, clinging desperately to what little they have left. Often fueled even unconsciously by their fear of abandonment, of forgetting. They’re terrible at opening up to others to boot! Wow! And remembering… Did I say that already? These go hand in hand i promise.

your muse’s greatest strength: do puns count..? No? Okay, well. Siffrin cares very intensely and deeply for anyone who gives him the time of day. He’s fiercely devoted and eager to help those in need, strangers or friends alike. Even his puns and bad jokes are to try to cheer others up! 

history / background: 

There isn’t much to say about Siffrin’s history. Not further back, not where they came from. There was more, once, but nobody, not even Siffrin themselves could say. Vaguely they recall having parents? Coming to on a boat with no memory of who they were, where they came from, what language they spoke. It all hurt to think about, whatever wounds left over on their memory would never fully heal either, waiting until something prodded at them as they wandered through life. Siffrin had no home, after all, so they grew up traveling the globe, always a stranger, a visitor as they went from place to place.

Eventually, in adulthood, they revisited the country of Vaugarde where they’d washed ashore in their childhood. Maybe not the best idea they’d discover, as someone known as the King had somehow gotten the power to start freezing the entire country in time. A bit more dangerous than anticipated, but Siffrin was skilled enough to manage themselves and even help a few people along the way. Three of whom claimed to be on a journey to stop the King like some kind of heroes. Mirabelle, a woman being called the “chosen one” by locals, had the power to counter the King’s curse. She and her companions, Isabeau and Odile, asked for Siffrin’s help after they lended a hand (or knife) to defeat a particularly strong monster.

He had nothing better to do, so he agreed to come along.

On their journey to recover the orbs that would get the party into the House the King had taken over, they spotted a child on their own who’d been running from the slowly encroaching curse. Bonnie, who desperately wanted to save their sister who’d been frozen in time, insisted on coming along for the ride, completing their little party.

Siffrin didn’t realize how much he grew to care about them all, how much he loved them, would do anything for them. Not until Bonnie was in harm's way and a monster- Sadness, they were called- struck at them. Nobody was close enough to stop it, but Siffrin was the fastest. He could just get there in time to take the hit for Bonnie. It cost him his eye, but he didn’t regret it. He would do anything to keep his friends safe, no sacrifice would be too great. Injury or not, traveling with them was the happiest he’d ever remembered being.

When they finally gather the orbs and get to the town of Dormont, just by the House the King took over, things change. Not noticeably at first, Siffrin has a nice time taking a nap in the nearby meadow the day before the final confrontation. There’s a tree Isabeau is visiting, the Favor Tree, a place for people to ask for, well, a favor. Or a wish. It’s a nice sentiment, everyone surely is wishing for the King to be defeated so Vaugarde can be saved. Siffrin makes a wish himself, though he doesn’t want to take away from everyone else, so… Something small. Something nice. 

He wishes to continue traveling with Mirabelle and see her get more comfortable expressing herself. He wants to stay with them!

… They all spend the night together, Isabeau promises to tell him something important after they defeat the king. The next morning, the party ventures to the House. They make it not a few rooms in before, while checking a room for traps as is his job, Siffrin misses something. The next moment a rock falls and they’re crushed to death and-

They feel a tug on their stomach. 

And Siffrin wakes back up in the meadow the day before they died. 

After completely failing to act like normal to hide their apparent time traveling, Siffrin hears a voice directing him to visit the Favor Tree again. When he arrives he finds a figure sitting beneath it, a person with a star where their head should be who introduces themselves as Loop. They’re grating, annoying, but they know what’s going on, at least a bit. They give guidance, albeit condescendingly, and help Siffrin navigate the time loop he finds himself in. He has to gather information, to try to get through the House and beat the king, but every time he dies Siffrin loops back in time. It’s not impossible to control, there are different points in which he can return to, but the earliest he can go back to is waking up in that meadow. Sometimes, he finds he has to loop on purpose in order to go back to get something he needs.

It’s scary how easily Siffrin adjusts to it. How easy it is to stop valuing his own wellbeing. 

Loop after loop, Siffrin gets used to the same repeating lines of dialogue, the same script, the same enemies. They get stronger, they learn more, they get to fight the king. He kills them, easily, but they come back. They have unlimited tries, they’re fine, even if it hurts even if they wake up shaking and reeling they’re fine. They can investigate, find counters to every obstacle thrown their way. The King can kill everyone in one attack, Loop supports and offers ideas, Siffrin finds a way to make them real and finds a way for Mirabelle to learn a shield spell every new try. 

Eventually they beat the king. They did it, they won, even if Isabeau is interrupted when he tries to tell them that something he mentioned it’s okay because they won. They can leave. The Head Housemaiden who’d been trapped by the King thanks them all, thanks Siffrin and. Something. Goes. Wrong. She breaks down, cries, apologizes. Something’s breaking, something’s failing, rotting. It smells of burned sugar. 

They feel a tug on their stomach.

And Siffrin wakes back up in the meadow.

…There has to be something else. Something they missed. The loops continue, Siffrin becomes more and more desperate, they try everything they can think of. Helping everybody else with their problems doesn’t work, the power of love doesn’t work, acknowledging their lost history and the country they and the King came from doesn’t work, empathizing with the King and his plight doesn’t work and Bonnie dies for their foolish hopes, nothing works. Either Siffrin dies or makes it to the end and they loop back. They’re so tired. Every loop they pray for rest.

Occasionally, when they fail to stay on script, when they upset Bonnie to the point of lashing out, when they spend the day with Loop instead of going to the House and everyone else dies, when they act selfishly and alienate Isabeau by pushing him to confess (because Siffrin knew what he wanted to say, they need to hear it though it doesn’t count if he doesn’t say it. It doesn’t. It doesn’t. It doesn’t-) they loop back just enough to avoid that horrible new reality.

Their desperate, feverish attempts to find out why they’re looping leads them to a type of magic, Wish Craft. Something that grants wishes, either with a properly done ritual or with enough people, a whole country wishing for the same thing. The Head Housemaiden seemed to have been looking into it, but the next time Siffrin gets to her, she tells them, apologizes. It must be everyone’s fault Siffrin is stuck there, they must have wished wrong and their wish for a savior to come protect Vaugarde must have broken, failed, rotted. Turned into an endless loop with Siffrin stuck at the center. Forever.

They smell burning sugar.

They feel a tug on their stomach.

They wake up in the meadow again.

Siffrin cannot be stuck here forever. There has to be something, anything to save them. They would gladly spend an eternity with their friends but after so many of the same lines, the same scenes, the same script they don’t feel real. Everyone they love feels like an actor, a cardboard cutout, a character instead of the real people. Siffrin cannot be stuck here forever, they need to get out. 

The wish was centered on them, right? Maybe they need to defeat the King by their own hand. Every time it was Mirabelle who landed the final blow, so maybe that’s it? They can’t think of anything else. Siffrin can’t hold it together, they try to push the others harder, lashes out and says horrible, cruel things without meaning to. But they do it, and none of their party, their family wants to be around them. They overhear the four of them discussing going to the House without them, arguing about if they can trust them. 

Siffrin goes to the House alone, cleaves a path through it as the world itself glitches and warps around them, as they see ghosts of themself in the halls, as everything stops making sense. They continue onward, face the King on their own and. Almost manage to defeat him. He stops them in time before they can win, traps them in a nightmare of their own traumas, their fears laid out and impossible to fight on their own. Siffrin longs for what they can never have, consumed by homesickness, by grief, the fact that after what they said their family must hate them. They ruin everything they touch, cannot fight against their memories, their being, everything that was ripped from them. Their home. That everything that made them who they are is gone, forgotten by the Universe itself, and they too will be forgotten, forgotten, forgotten–

He’s pulled from the nightmare by Mirabelle’s powers as the others arrive, having gone in after to help. The four of them take the King down using some new skill Mirabelle learned in his absence that reflects the King’s curse back onto him. Siffrin, weakened after having taken everything on alone and is supported by their family as they all make their way to the Head Housemaiden once more. He can’t understand why,  after all those horrible things he said, why? Something’s different, though, the sky is broken, it looks like the end of the world. Everything is normally painted in greyscale, completely absent of color. Now a huge, bright red crack in the shape of a star pulses in the sky.

  When they reach the end again, where the Head Housemaiden waits for them, that’s it. The end. As every time before, they talk about it being the end. The journey is over. 

  Siffrin doesn’t want it to end. If it ends, everyone leaves. If it ends, everyone goes home. Siffrin does not have a home, they have their family. That’s it.

  Siffrin doesn’t want it to end. Siffrin refuses to let it end. They’re consumed by the magic that allows them to loop through time, overwhelmed by it as they refuse to let their family go again. But they can’t hurt them, they have to direct it somewhere and they hurt themselves and despite looming over them as a massive, astral being Mirabelle still heals them.

  They all don’t understand but he can’t say it. It isn’t the people’s wish keeping him here, it isn’t a broken one. They come to realize it was his all along. 

  His family says: Tell us your wish!

  And he knows the answer. 

  ‘He wants to stay with them!’

  And they love Siffrin, they bring him back to himself, they all agree to keep traveling together and not let their journey be over . They agree to keep in touch, to not let their bonds die even if they aren’t physically together. Even if they’re upset, they still care. They love him.

This is so long i cant write anymore i’m so fucking sorry. Love wins or whatever also includes the loop epilogue he is loved and he loves and his maladies truly are endless but things get better okay i promise okay bye let me know if i need to elaborate on anything ever mwah

powers / abilities: 

CRAFT SKILLS: Magic! Offensive Craft Skills fall under 1 of 3 types: Rock, Paper, and Scissors. Siffrin is Scissors type and, as one might imagine, is weak to Rock type. When 5 of one type is used in a row by the party they can get a Jackpot combo, which deals heavy damage of said type to all enemies while healing the party and reviving any fallen allies. 

Knife to Meet You: Deals scissors damage to one enemy. May lower enemy’s defense. 1 turn cooldown.

Too Cleaver By Half: Deals scissors damage to all enemies. Might lower enemy’s attack. 3 turn cooldown.

Make Up The Time: Makes all allies faster for a few turns. 3 turn cooldown.

Turn It Up: Gives his turn to an ally. Boosts their attack and crit chance. 1 turn cooldown.

Buy One Get One Three: Deals 3 scissors hits to one enemy. High chance of being a critical hit. 2 turn cooldown.

Done Heal: Heals 30% of a ally’s HP and boosts their attack. 2 turn cooldown.

Tear You Apart: Deals big Paper damage to one enemy. Gives two Jackpot points instead of one. 2 turn cooldown.

Rock Bottom: Deals big Rock damage to one enemy. Gives two jackpot points instead of one. 2 turn cooldown.

Regener-ade: For three turns everyone in the party regenerates 10% of HP every turn. 5 turn cooldown.

(Just Attack): Deals massive Scissors damage to all enemies. Doesn’t give a Jackpot point. 3 turn cooldown.

WISH CRAFT: An additional type of craft that requires specific rituals to perform in order to grant a wish. Even if done correctly Wish Craft might not directly make a wish come true, but instead will provide the means for doing so. Warning: may break reality slightly. Don’t worry about it. 

inherent abilities: 

MEMORIES: They will always remember these. Only one may be equipped at a time. Most of them have effects that don’t work here, but… They are quite literally memories. 

Memory of Self: It's a memory of Siffrin! They have, theoretically, so many to choose from! [+5 to all stats.]

Memory of Loops: Round and round it goes. Doesn’t seem like it’ll help much here. [+5 max HP per loops. Currently adds +630 HP.] 

Memory of A Journey: The curtains will close, but the story will go on for a bit longer! [Heals 6% HP every turn.]

Memory of Victory: Boosts all allies' attack at the start of battle. 

Memory of Memories: You remember this, at least. [Can read in their country’s written language.]

Memory of Touch: You had eyes bigger than your stomach. Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting. [-50 to all stats.]

Memory of Fishing: Don’t have to think about anything. [+2 attack for every time you’ve gone fishing, but -20 attack speed. Currently adds +62 attack.]

Memory of Defeat: Still a long way to go. [Get x3 memories of skirmish when defeating normal enemies. Doesn’t matter here.]

Memory of Keys: The castle’s full of keys! [Can get directions to a keys location in the House. Doesn’t matter here.]

Memory of Ghosts: House’s haunted. [No effect.]

Memory of Barrels: You like looking inside barrels. [Randomly find items when interacting with barrels. Doesn’t matter here…?]

Memory of Pillars: Paranoia also starts with a P. [Randomly find items when interacting with pillars. Doesn’t matter here…?]

Memory of Bomb: KABOOM!!! [If looping to the King, will have Bomb in pockets. Doesn’t matter here.]

Memory of Family: You don’t want to leave them behind. [EXP x2 for everyone except Siffrin. Doesn’t matter here.]

Memory of Sadnesses: They’re scared of you. [Sadnesses will flee from you. Doesn’t matter here.]

Memory of KnifeKey: Slice, slice, slice. [If looping to the King, will have the KnifeKey equipped. Doesn’t matter here.]

Aren’t you glad looping doesn’t work here? Aren’t you?? I am!

items / weapons: 

Knife: Siffrin’s trusty dagger. Does the job.

Garden Scissors: Not that easy to wield. Cuts everything. [Boosts attack, lowers attack speed.]

KnifeKey: A blade gifted by the Change God, and sharpened by Siffrin. [Boosts attack when fighting the King. Doesn’t matter here.]

Starry Hat: The fabric lining the inside of the hat is filled with stars. [Boosts defense, attack speed, and crit chance, heals 5% HP every turn.]

Eternal Snacks: A seemingly endless supply of snacks. Somehow fits in their pocket.

starting ability: Knife to Meet You  starting item: Siffrin’s knife

extra: 

Canonically Siffrin is NOT a man, please stick to neutral titles. Saying “dude” and such casually is fine. 

Ace rep btw I’m winning

~5ft or so, not quite canon but he’s the shortest out of the party barring the literal child.

Still has a residual sugary smell about them

Siffrin has all but a few of the souvenirs they can at the end of the game! Functionally they are useless, just little trinkets from home. Includes everything except for the starting silver coin (they have the special epilogue one), reminder note, loving fanmail, bomb components, and bonding earring. They have the fool as their drawn card. 

The haunted look in his eye and autistic swag have bewitched me body and soul

See the wiki doesn’t have all the story information yet so i have to put it ALL myself from memory. Its SO long and i HATE IT but it’s what i gotta do. Lmk if i need to clarify anything at any point.

The thing about time loop jokes is, sure, they may be repetitive, but they never get old

discord id: mal.du.pays passcode: i made artemis assign a cosmia bc i didnt want spoiling BY GOD ILL PLAY THIS GAME

[insolitus-academy]

♚ // Face Claim Full name Face Claim: Hyunjin Hwang| Group/Band/Occupation: Stray Kids Nationality: South Korea Faceclaim age: 23

♚ // Character ; Basic information

Quote: In my defense, I was left unsupervised.

Full name character: Aidan Hwang Nickname: Aidan Realm of birth (if earth, nationality): Imaginary realm Age: 23 Date of Birth: March 20th, 1997 Gender: Cis male Preferred Pronouns: He/him Race: Shardian Sexual Orientation: Pansexual What is the level of Korean and how did they learn to speak it (For non-Korean characters from other realms & other earth-countries): Native

♚ // Character ; Appearance

Skin Color: Fair Eye color: Naturally black, however he wears light blue contact lenses Scars: One across his thigh Piercings: Multiple lobe piercings in both ears – an orbital in his right ear, two small helixes in his left one; a navel piercing Tattoos: None Hair color: Currently red, tends to change colors on a whim Abnormalities: Aidan’s skin while being fair, it has a certain greyish hue to it, almost as if at a closer look one could see right through him Horns/ wings/ etc.: N/A Transformed form: N/A

♚ // Character ; Personality

Six personality traits: Obsessive, moody, impulsive, observant, impressionable, creative

Likes: spring, the scent of oil paints, early mornings, warm milk, insectariums Dislikes: cold weather, confined places, strict routines, loud alarms, dining alone Manias: Aidan cannot possibly stand being unclean, thus he takes multiple showers a day, religiously washes his hands and carries around wet-wipes and hand sanitizer at all times. He would not ever meet someone unless he deems himself pristine. He stocks up on tissues and milk. He also gets overwhelmingly distressed around December, to the point of going out of his way not to be involved in any sort of conflict by that time, as he is persuaded it could be very dangerous to the person in cause. Aidan tends to be unusually docile and polite around that time. Phobias: Not a phobia per se, however Aidan is horrified by crows specifically. Aidan also has a deep fear of vanishing as the memory of his former self would be forgotten. Animal: Ferret Religion: Aidan doesn’t adhere to any of the big religions; however, he holds a set of values and principles of his own .Favorite song: Måneskin - HONEY (ARE U COMING?)Vice: LustVirtue: Diligence

Personality description: Aidan operates in extremes, like a ticking bomb of muted emotions that goes off every once in a while, with overwhelming force, exhausts itself completely, and then repeats the cycle. Over and over.

It’s difficult to predict what mood one could find him in, and depending on that, he could be the most docile, sweet creature to have ever set foot on earth, or the most crude and vile. Although temperamental and prone to shift lanes in the blink of an eye, Aidan has the tendency to fixate on things or people, and when that occurs, he finds an inexplicable force within himself to wholly dedicate himself to said activity or person, to the point of throwing away his own well-being and frail sanity.

There are many aspects about himself that he can barely make sense of, which leaves him frustrated and on a constant quest of finding himself. Built out of bits and pieces of someone’s image, mediated by yet someone else’s perception, Aidan struggles to understand why he acts, thinks or feels a certain way. Though he carries plenty of scars that make him difficult to deal with, what Aidan ultimately seeks is to quench the thirst of wanting to belong someplace

♚ // Character ; Powers

Magical Powers: Summoning emotions of sadness. Aidan has the ability to summon emotions of sadness in others, however sustained eye-contact is necessary for it to happen in his case, and he mostly uses this power to his benefice. Reading the darkest and saddest memories through touch. Upon touching another being, Aidan can have access to their deepest repressed memories. Magic tears. Aidan’s tears are magical and they cause a sense of euphoria when consumed by another being.

Non-magical Powers:Painting. Very efficient with chores. Quite crafty.

Weaknesses: Reading sorrowful memories through touch. It’s a power Aidan is aware of, however cannot properly control it yet, thus he unwillingly receives flashes of someone else’s memories when he didn’t mean to actually access those. Depending on the context, Aidan will keep it a secret, as he doesn’t want, nor mean to cross people’s boundaries without their knowledge. Lack of energy as his memory is less and less remembered. Aidan’s existence is quite fragile, and he desperately needs someone to remember his former self. As a consequence, after extended periods of time when people no longer think of him, Aidan becomes groggy and has overall less energy to go by. Poor sense of self. Aidan is the result of someone else’s perception of his former self, and while some details about him and his life were known by them, others were not. Those residues of his former self that he cannot explain to himself leave Aidan with a sense of not truly knowing or understanding himself. Cannot hold his liquor, although he very much likes drinking. Alcohol makes him become even more erratic than he usually is, and an innocent, lighthearted night out can easily turn into a mess.

♚ // Character ; The Student

Study Style: True to his personality, Aidan performs impeccably in those subjects that catch his attention, while failing miserably at those that he can’t grasp. However, he is not one to take accountability for his own shortcomings and when frustration builds up, he is the kind to let it out on his teachers. Favorite class: Theatre/dramaLeast favorite class: Math I

classes (5-8) : AstrologyArcheryFrenchMath IFashion history & SewingTheatre/dramaTennis

♚ // Character ; The Past Date of Birth: March 20th, 1997 Date of Death: Supposed to be November 20th, 2020 Crime Record: A couple of petty crimes in his early teenage years, such as shoplifting, stealing bikes, trying to break into houses (in plain daylight). Has your character attended Insolitus Academy in the past?No

Background: TW: mentions of mental health issues & suicide; mentions of child neglect

In the early hours, footsteps resonated across the corridor like a brigade’s march. The door had been found wide open, the bed empty, the once white sheets without a single fold. They were like paper, and cold, untouched. Aidan hadn’t been there the night before – the most sensible conclusion. Confusion and anxiety reigned over the ward, unspoken questions floating in the chilly morning air along the small particles of light that peered inside through the sheer curtains. He was no longer there, nowhere to be found, his roommate too dazed to recall whether or not both were inside the room when the lights went out. Days, then weeks would pass, late autumn’s earth would be covered in snow, copper leaves rotting underneath, and yet no trace of him, not a single sign to prove he’d ever existed in that place. That winter turned out to be unusually harsh. As the first days of spring came about, the disappearance would be conveniently ruled out as suicide, though long before all search had been given up on.

It was autumn already, the moon shining brightly on the night sky, and under the light of that moon there he was bathing, his pores sucking in every beam as if those ensured his vitality. Aidan was no longer Aidan, not in the way he used to be himself. The world around him bore resemblance to the one he used to know while at the same time being completely different. He was more lost than ever, more confused than ever. There was a sense of freedom that made Aidan feel uneasy, as he barely knew how to exist on his own terms, without guidance or surveillance. However, in that maze Aidan has found clarity – he was not, after all, wrong or deranged, as they used to say about his living self. Beyond human perception, there indeed lain a world full of wonders, of beings that went about their existence more or less discreetly, just as he’d always sensed though far more complex than he could have imagined. His place was not there, among humans, now even less than ever.

And until that night, Aidan had no idea he could actually leave, persuaded to be bound to the home of the one whose sorrow created him. But he could, just like that mysterious creature had told him. Stepping outside the house did not make his limbs turn into particles of light and dissipate, on the contrary – he felt a sort of strength similar to the one his living self experienced years prior, one that drove him to a new beginning, to the place that he belonged to, truly. Just like that mysterious creature told him. Insolitus.

⁂

Born into a troubled family, Aidan’s childhood was far from idyllic. His mother, a young woman with many ambitions, found her fire extinguished brutally the moment her pregnancy had been discovered. All her hopes and dreams turned to ashes, confined in her house, found in her first-born the face of all her sorrows. She’d never managed to accept Aidan, and with each day that passed with them forcefully being each other’s company, she’d grown to become repulsed by him. Everyone around her contented themselves to label her as a despicable, lazy mother and turned a blind eye to all the pain tearing up her heart.

His father, a renowned photographer, was mostly absent from home, though the times when he was not around were far calmer – no shouting, no fighting, no arguments. As Aidan grew up, his notions of normalcy were twisted, in sheer contrast with the world outside of his small house. Loneliness pushed the boy to all sorts of unusual behaviors as he tried to make sense of existence. Though even that sick, fragile balance would be wrecked one day. His father abroad, he couldn’t have imagined the grim scene awaiting at home, his wife upstairs, lifeless, his son downstairs, a blank shell. Aidan had spent five days with his departed mother inside the house; it would soon have been Christmas, his seventh Christmas. From that episode, Aidan learnt about fault, punishment and guilt; for impertinent children, the consequences were dire. Onwards, his mental state only worsened.

Aidan Hwang had been institutionalized in his late teenage years, a peculiar facility in which one could hardly tell patients apart from doctors and the staff. Before his disappearance, the young man had spent a little less than five years in the facility. The case of his sudden disappearance has never been solved, however left with no evidence to hold any solid hypothesis, the administration had decided to pronounce Aidan dead and rule out the case as a suicide. Ever since, no sign of him either dead or alive has surfaced.

♚ // Roleplayer[ optional ]Time zone: GMT+2/3OOC! Triggers: VERY explicit depictions of vomiting (emetophobic here) & body dysmorphia.Themes/genres you like writing the most?: Drama, angst, fluff.

[csial]

begonia; bluebell; chamomile; gladiolus!

begonia :   how cautious is your muse ?are they prone to noticing red flags ,   or paranoid to the point of untrusting most everyone ? why or why not ?

Not nearly as much as he should be. He veers on the side of reckless truly and does not notice the red flags. If he did, he might have realised going up against Morax was a mistake. Part of this is confidence in his own abilities, verging on the arrogant side, though part of it is simply until the archon war he has never really truly experienced significant pain or loss to the heart-wrenching levels that follow, which makes everything so much more intense when it does come.

Because of this, it then makes him veer the other way during the archon war, verging on the paranoid, seeing knives in the hands of old friends ready to cut him down, even when they are sent to talk and it brings out the cruelty in him. Very much a I'll strike first so they cannot strike me approach. He trusts no one but Beisht and Havria, he cannot be reasoned with, he will not trust at all.

And then Osial in his main verse is untrusting but can learn to trust again. Part of it is he does not trust anyone to not turn him into Morax so he can be locked away again and he certainly doesn't trust intentions of anyone around him. The capacity for learning to trust again hinges solely on the experiences and people that follow. If he ends up alone / with The Fatui he never starts healing and finding out how to trust again, but if old friends or new ones find him there's a lot of progress that can be made.

bluebell :   does your muse learn from their past ,   or are they prone to repeating the same mistakes ?

It entirely depends on who finds him first upon escaping imprisonment. If it is someone who wants to help him find a place in this world, to move on from the past, then absolutely. If it is someone who will encourage the worst in him or if he is left alone, then the only thing that is fostered is the hate and rage until he is doomed to repeat his mistakes in trying to take on Morax. And this time he cares less about winning, only ensuring that he deals hurt before he goes down.

chamomile :   what is your muse likely to take away from a painful experience ?are they one to be haunted by adversity ,   or to use what they’ve gone through to become stronger ?

Hurt, anger, a sense of revenge. He's haunted by it, the pain mocks him, goads him in his weakness and festers within him. He has never truly learnt how to bear it well so it brings out the worst in him. In imprisonment it becomes a bitter motivator, in grief it becomes a catalyst for rage and unleashing his power without control. It is only when the anger burns out that he can truly reflect upon it and better himself from it.

gladiolus :   describe a moment from your muse’s life that they will never forget .

he will never forget the moment during the archon war when he realised everyone he knew was not going to side with him. As he watched all heads turn unconsciously in Morax's direction and give him Celestia's crown before conversation had even begun and he felt a surge of isolation within the Guili Assembly. When he realised the ground they stood upon was not as equal as he thought, and bitterness swelled within him, anger and frustration and he slipped away, divorcing himself from everything that had once been. It was the day his hostilities began and only worsened as he festered and never spoke on it, never reached out to converse and just acted on that bitterness without explanation.

BOTANICAL HCs. // @vishapsking

[7wolfmoon]

Architect INTJ-T 

Analyst Constant Improvement

before i c&p five novels’ worth of text, i just want to point out how funny and also fucked up it is that he is By Nature very curious, prone to doubting what he’s led to believe, comfortable striking out on his own, etc. but he still Tries So Fucking Hard to restrain himself with rules and others’ expectations and to fit into the roles that people expect of him. any and all of his rebellious acts are accidents that he tries desperately to prevent but they happen anyway. i just think it’s super funny and sad

anyway on to the wall. and i DO mean a fucking wall.

-------------------------------------

A Pioneering Spirit

Architects question everything. Many personality types trust the status quo, relying on conventional wisdom and other people’s expertise to guide their lives. But ever-skeptical Architects prefer to make their own discoveries. In their quest to find better ways of doing things, they aren’t afraid to break the rules or risk disapproval – in fact, they rather enjoy it.

Architects, independent to the core, want to shake off other people’s expectations and pursue their own ideas.

This personality type comes with a strong independent streak. Architects don’t mind acting alone, perhaps because they don’t like waiting around for others to catch up with them. They also generally prefer making decisions without asking for anyone else’s input. At times, this lone-wolf behavior can come across as insensitive, as it fails to take into consideration other people’s thoughts, desires, and plans.

It would be a mistake, however, to view Architects as uncaring. Whatever the stereotypes about their stoic intellect, these personalities feel deeply. When things go wrong or when they hurt others, Architects are personally affected and spend much time and energy trying to figure out why things happened the way that they did. They may not always value emotion as a decision-making tool, but they are authentically human.

A Thirst for Knowledge

Architects can be both the boldest of dreamers and the bitterest of pessimists. They believe that, through willpower and intelligence, they can achieve even the most challenging goals. But these personalities may be cynical about human nature more generally, assuming that most people are lazy, unimaginative, or simply doomed to mediocrity.

People with the Architect personality type derive much of their self-esteem from their knowledge and mental acuity. In school, they may have been called “bookworms” or “nerds.” But rather than taking these labels as insults, many Architects embrace them. They recognize their own ability to teach themselves about – and master – any topic that interests them, whether that’s coding or capoeira or classical music.

Architects don’t just learn new things for show – they genuinely enjoy expanding the limits of their knowledge.

Architects can be single-minded, with little patience for frivolity, distractions, or idle gossip. That said, they’re far from dull or humorless. Many Architects are known for their irreverent wit, and beneath their serious exteriors, they often have a sharp, delightfully sarcastic sense of humor.

Social Frustrations

Architects aren’t known for being warm and fuzzy. They tend to prioritize rationality and success over politeness and pleasantries – in other words, they’d rather be right than popular. This may explain why so many fictional villains are modeled on this personality type.

Because Architects value truth and depth, many common social practices – from small talk to white lies – may seem pointless or downright stupid to them. As a result, they may inadvertently come across as rude or even offensive when they’re only trying to be honest.

At times, Architects may wonder whether dealing with other people is even worth the frustration.

But like any personality type, Architects do crave social interaction – they’d just prefer to surround themselves with people who share their values and priorities. Often, they can achieve this just by being themselves. When Architects pursue their interests, their natural confidence can draw people to them – professionally, socially, and even romantically.

The Chess Game of Life

Architects are full of contradictions. They are imaginative yet decisive, ambitious yet private, and curious yet focused. From the outside, these contradictions may seem baffling, but they make perfect sense once you understand the inner workings of the Architect mind.

For these personalities, life is like a giant game of chess. Relying on strategy rather than chance, Architects contemplate the strengths and weaknesses of each move before they make it. And they never lose faith that, with enough ingenuity and insight, they can find a way to win – no matter what challenges might arise along the way.

(INTJ) Strengths

Rational – Architects pride themselves on the power of their minds. They can reframe nearly any challenge as an opportunity to hone their rational thinking skills and expand their knowledge – and with this mindset, they can devise inventive solutions to even the most arduous of problems.

Informed – Few personality types are as devoted as Architects to developing rational, correct, and evidence-based opinions. Rather than hunches or half-baked assumptions, they base their conclusions on research and analysis. This gives them the conviction that they need to stand up for their ideas, even in the face of disagreement.

Independent – For these personalities, conformity is more or less synonymous with mediocrity. Creative and self-motivated, Architects strive to do things their own way. They can imagine few things more frustrating than allowing arbitrary rules or conventions to stand in the way of their success.

Determined – This personality type is known for being ambitious and goal-oriented. Architects won’t rest until they’ve achieved their own definition of success – which usually entails mastering the subjects and pursuits that matter to them.

Curious – Architects are open to new ideas – as long as those ideas are rational and evidence-based, that is. Skeptical by nature, Architects are especially drawn to offbeat or contrarian points of view. And if the facts prove them wrong, they are generally happy to revise their opinions.

Original – Without Architects, the world would be a far less interesting place. This personality type’s rebellious streak is responsible for some of history’s most unconventional ideas and inventions. Even in their everyday lives, Architects force the people around them to consider new (and sometimes startling) ways of looking at things.

(INTJ) Weaknesses

Arrogant – Architects might be knowledgeable, but they’re not infallible. Their self-assurance can blind them to useful input from other people – especially anyone they deem to be intellectually inferior. These personalities can also come across as needlessly harsh or single-minded in trying to prove others wrong.

Dismissive of Emotions – For Architects, rationality is king. But emotional context often matters more than people with this personality type care to admit. Architects can get impatient with anyone who seems to value feelings more than facts. Unfortunately, ignoring emotion is its own type of bias – one that can cloud Architects’ judgment.

Overly Critical – These personalities tend to have a great deal of self-control, particularly when it comes to thoughts and feelings. When the people in their lives fail to match their level of restraint, Architects can appear scathingly critical. But this criticism can be unfair, based on arbitrary standards rather than a full understanding of human nature.

Combative – Architects hate blindly following anything without understanding why. This includes restrictions and the authority figures who impose them. People with this personality type can get caught up in arguing about useless rules and regulations – but sometimes these battles are distractions from more important matters.

Socially Clueless – Architects’ relentless rationality can lead to frustration in their social lives. Their efforts to defy expectations may leave them feeling isolated or disconnected from other people. At times, they may become cynical about the value of relationships altogether, questioning the importance of love and connection.

Roles: Analysts

Shared personality traits: Intuitive (N) and Thinking (T)

Thinkers, Not Robots

The personality types in the Analyst Role are known for their love of rationality. Because they share the Thinking trait, these types often aim to make decisions with their heads rather than their hearts. But Analysts are far from being robots. Their Intuitive personality trait energizes their imaginations, helping them to come up with creative strategies and motivating them to explore things deeply – whether that’s an intellectual pursuit, a new interest, or even a crazy scheme or thought experiment.

These personalities are driven to understand and create. They have no problem switching between speculative musing and tactical problem-solving. Of course, these broad abilities need to be honed – and, when appropriate, they need to lead to action. Otherwise, Analysts’ active minds can give them a false sense of accomplishment.

Driven by Curiosity

Analysts are innately curious. This helps them to ensure that their ideas are workable, rather than just clever. These personality types have a strong drive to learn, and they want to find out things for themselves rather than accept received wisdom. These types may be found stockpiling books, questioning teachers, spurring debates, or driving conversations in forums across the Internet.

88% of Analysts say they’re intrigued by things labeled as controversial.

Analysts are also relentless self-improvers. Once they’ve recognized a flaw, they apply all of their rationality, imagination, and desire for results to make it right. Especially when it’s balanced with self-understanding, this drive can enable Analyst personalities to push the boundaries of what’s possible – no matter what anyone else may think.

Socially Selective

Analysts can have a reputation for being lone wolves. These personality types don’t necessarily care about befriending everyone they meet, and they definitely don’t surround themselves with random people just for the sake of having some company.

85% of Analysts say they can spend a whole weekend by themselves without getting bored.

Given a choice between spending time with someone incompatible or spending time alone, many Analysts would choose the latter. And they may not be so subtle about it. 71% of people with Analyst personality types say they’re good at shutting down unwanted conversations – far more than any other Role. This brusqueness can make Analysts seem rude, unapproachable, or antisocial, particularly to types that value social harmony.

That said, it’s important to note that only 17% of Analysts actually describe their ideal social life as “mostly by myself.” Much greater numbers – 30% and 41% respectively – say they’d prefer to have a few good friends or a partner and a few good friends. As a result, it’s inaccurate to view these personality types as antisocial.

Instead, it makes sense to view Analysts as socially selective. Like other types, they crave social connection. But these personalities won’t feel socially fulfilled by spending time with just anyone. They want to surround themselves with people who really get them – even if it takes effort to find those people. That might be why 46% of Analysts say they actively seek new friendships – which is more than any other Role except Diplomats.

Independent Minds

Analysts have little patience for following in others’ footsteps. 58% of these personality types describe themselves as “very independent” – far more than any other Role. Independence isn’t just a characteristic of these types – it’s an important part of their self-image.

77% of Analysts say they’re proud of their independence.

This mindset shows up vividly in how Analysts approach academic and professional settings. These personality types are questioners, reluctant to take anything on faith. And “anything” includes what their teachers or bosses say.

From the outside, this might look like a lack of respect. In our Teachers Survey, Analysts were far less likely than other Roles to say they admired their past teachers. And this mindset persists in the professional sphere as well. 43% of Analysts in the workforce say they would be better than their boss at their boss’s job – again, far more than any other Role. Analyst personalities are also far less likely than other Roles to express admiration for their bosses.

But does this represent a lack of respect? Maybe – but this choosiness might well have other roots. Analysts tend to hold themselves to high standards, and they often hold the people around them (bosses and teachers included) to these high standards as well. In addition, Analyst personality types tend to care a great deal about learning and professional success. 85% of Analysts say they have a strong desire to be an important and successful person.

It makes sense, then, that these personality types hold their teachers and bosses to rigorous standards. After all, an Analyst with a poor teacher or boss may be less likely to become successful. Of course, Analysts – just like anyone – will almost certainly find themselves faced with a less-than-stellar teacher or boss. As a result, figuring out how to navigate these situations is an important part of their development.

Problems? What Problems?

You know who talks a lot about their problems? Not Analysts. In fact, 83% of Analysts say that most people complain too much about their problems.

But that doesn’t mean that people with these personality types don’t think about their problems, and they certainly don’t shy away from challenges. 61% of Analysts say they’re excited by the idea of being responsible for solving problems, and 85% say they enjoy tackling difficult challenges.

A core strength of Analysts is their faith in their problem-solving abilities. Analyst personalities tend to express the highest intellectual self-confidence of any Role, and this gives them the willingness to try their hand at things that may be hard. Taken too far, this can turn into cockiness – which is rarely an asset, whether in relationships or in other spheres. But as long as Analysts balance their intellectual self-assurance with their innate curiosity, these personality types can find success and even enjoyment in the face of challenges both large and small.

Strategies: Constant Improvement

Shared personality traits: Introverted (I) and Turbulent (-T)

Sensitive Souls

Constant Improvers tend to be sensitive and introspective. They are often deep individuals who enjoy having their own space and freedom. In general, these personality types feel more comfortable on their own than mixed up in the judgment of the real world.

This may be because they share the two personality traits most representative of sensitivity to their environment – Introversion and Turbulence. As a result, they may find it stressful to deal with tense environments or new situations. In these moments, Constant Improvers can be deeply uncomfortable – although they may not want to let on how they really feel. In reaction, these personalities might retreat inward, react defensively, or try to escape the situation altogether. Alternatively, they might give up their own wants or needs in an effort to keep the peace.

Driven by Doubt

Constant Improvers tend to experience self-doubt. They have a strong drive, but it comes paired with a strong fear of failure. These personality types invest a great deal of their identity in their successes. As a result, even a minor misstep or embarrassment can be crushing.

On the upside, this vigilance offers these personality types a knack for sensing trouble. This can be quite useful in situations that need to balance risk and reward – whether a financial investment or a romantic opportunity. When faced with a potential risk, these types look for ways to prevent problems. Although it slows them down in the short term, this approach can prevent longer-term issues.

79% of Constant Improvers say they often dwell on their regrets.

Constant Improvers direct much of their attention toward their personal interests. They strive to master hobbies, careers, or new means of self-expression. This level of dedication can create impressive, beautiful results.

People with Constant Improvement personality types can be perfectionistic, dedicating tremendous time and energy to their pursuits. Unfortunately, if they put too much pressure on themselves, this approach can backfire. For example, Constant Improvers may feel forced to abandon an endeavor because a single detail doesn’t line up right.

The “Right” Career?

Constant Improvers’ longing for “something more” extends to their professional lives. Just over a quarter of these types say that their career is a great fit for them – a rate of agreement that is less than the other Strategies.

This doesn’t necessarily mean that Constant Improvers are in the wrong careers for them – although they might wonder if they are. More than half of these personality types say they often think about switching careers, and they’re more likely than the other Strategies to say that they feel stuck in their current job.

This restlessness doesn’t have to be a bad thing. In fact, restlessness can be an incredible motivator to do great things. The trouble comes when Constant Improvers feel trapped: wanting to make a change, but suspecting they’re unable or helpless to do so. This feeling can have a number of roots, such as self-doubt or a general worry that other people don’t “get” them.

96% of Constant Improvers say they often feel misunderstood.

As in other areas of their lives, Constant Improvers who pursue personal growth often discover that their feeling of helplessness is exactly that – a feeling. This can be a powerful discovery. In its wake, these personality types are better able to harness their personal and professional strengths and deal with their feeling of “stuckness.” This may take the form of finding a new career, or it might involve advocating for themselves in their current workplaces so that they get more of their needs met. Either way, Constant Improvers often find that they have more agency in their professional lives than they’d realized.

The Strength of Sensitivity

In general, Constant Improvers care a great deal about what others think of them. This can trigger insecurity, to be sure, but when kept in balance, it can create some truly wonderful traits. These personalities are often curious about and sensitive to others’ feelings. This can make them excellent listeners, friends, confidants, and partners.

Some types might think that sensitivity is synonymous with weakness, but Constant Improvers know that isn’t the case. These personality types often exemplify how sensitivity and vulnerability can be hidden strengths. Their attunement to their own struggles and insecurities can help them to bond deeply with others. It can also motivate them to act with kindness and compassion.

Although they may not always realize it, Constant Improvers offer the world a wealth of gifts. Once they learn to trust themselves as much as they trust others’ opinions, these personalities can shine.

[shibaraki]

LAP CAT ┊ AIZAWA SHOUTA

synopsis: you never thought you’d be the type of person to own a hybrid, but after learning his odds of adoption are low due to his age, you can’t just leave Shouta behind.

tags: NSFT, AFAB reader, hybrid au (half animal half human), cat hybrid aizawa (NOT A/B/O), animal transformations (shifting between cat and human), brief look into the politics of hybrids (we like autonomy in this house folks, but I'll say dubcon just in case), animal characteristics (behavioural and physical), fluff and smut, brief voyeurism, male masturbation, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie, roommates(?) to lovers, brief mentions of child abuse (reader is a child therapist)

wc: 7.8k

“You’re nervous”.

The restless bounce of your knee comes to a standstill as you turn to Hizashi with a withered glare and a sarcastic comment ready on your tongue. You breathe through it deeply, picturing the expansion of your lungs, ballooning and pushing out the anxiety in your chest. 

After two weeks of ruminating, plus an additional week of preparation, you were finally taking your adopted hybrid home. 

You’d first happened upon a picture of him whilst donating some old clothes to the hybrid centre. It had been pinned to the board in the reception area, hung above it was a plaque that read ‘our grumpiest resident’. He looked big, upper lip pulled into a scowl and a faint scar along his cheek where no hair had grown back. At first glance he was easily mistaken as a typical feline, but the disarming humanity reflected in his eyes had given you pause. 

Shouta. A Norwegian forest cat hybrid. Below it was a bullet-pointed checklist showing that he was actively looking for adoption and held the ability to shift, the final line stating that he was adept at communicating with human speech. 

Hybrids that could fully shift were incredibly rare. Their origins dated back thousands of years, and extensive research had uncovered a very clear spectrum that each individual hybrid sat on. Some appeared completely human, any trace of their animal characteristics diluted through time and they were typically unable to shift at all. Some only carried behavioural traits. Others were clearly — visibly — a hybrid. Non-human ears, tails and fangs, claws and talons. But a complete transformation was still highly uncommon, even in those cases. 

Given the statistics, people often came across animals not knowing they were hybrids at all. The realisation had been slow for you, too, only truly clicking in your mind when your gaze fell upon the short bio beneath his picture. 

He’d piqued your interest, and after asking the receptionist if she knew anything more about him, she’d smiled tightly as if the topic made her uncomfortable. “Shouta has been here for six years. He’s our longest resident,” was her answer.

At its core, the centre was largely a refuge for hybrids.  A majority of them lived independently and didn’t want to be someone’s house pet. You too felt that adopting them was an outdated practice — they weren’t actually animals. But they were legally deemed as such, consequently being unable to live alone, rent or even find employment. 

Despite it all, there were still hybrids that would advertise when seeking a family, and Shouta clearly wanted out of there. Six years was a long time to wait. 

“If you have it, I’d like his full profile”. 

Aizawa Shouta, long haired and bushy tailed. It stated he had no history of violence or aggression, though he was prone to scratching if startled, and carried a mild temperament. Whoever had written the biography clearly knew and loved him, detailing about the cat's odd dry sense of humour and general pickiness. He was good with children and other hybrids but preferred his own space, was not one to damage property when bored or frustrated, and experienced short bouts of heat throughout the months of September to March which had placated with age. 

Speaking of age — Shouta was thirty years old. 

The receptionist, Kayama you recall, had once again grimaced while you’d read through that section of the file, as if she were bracing herself for something, relaxing only when you’d turned the page. 

After your donated clothes had been taken, the large bag long waiting rumpled at your feet, you’d left empty handed. Shouta weighed heavily on your mind, and your heart, for the entirety of the month that followed. 

So now you were back. Just as you remembered, everything about the room felt impersonal, almost clinical. You find the colour white wherever you look, from the floor to the ceilings, cool air blowing in from the vents even after the summer had been long gone. 

Hizashi, a close friend and occasional volunteer at the centre, had kindly helped you through the process. It was thanks to him that not only was your paperwork fast tracked, but your home had been completely approved by an inspector. Now there was a spare room in your apartment, ready and awaiting its new occupant, stocked with various necessities for both a human and a cat. 

You’d been forewarned that Shouta didn’t like shifting into his human form, not anymore. There was a sense of safety, and solace, in being a simple cat. You were honest enough to admit that you’d longed for such an ability yourself – exhausted in the middle of your work day, wishing you could be reborn as an animal without responsibility. 

But that wasn’t the only reason. According to staff, Shouta’s age had been his biggest enemy when it came to adoption, which explained Kayama’s previous apprehension of you. People and families alike; they wanted young hybrids. The younger the better, especially if it meant having someone for their children to grow up with. Shouta however, was a fully grown adult man, and apparently an intimidating one at that. 

So you understood his refusal. He was used to disappointment, and no longer trusted those who approached him with interest. But you sought to prove him wrong. Whether he lived out his days as a regular house cat, or eventually decided to live alongside you in human form, you didn’t care.

You just wanted him to have a home. 

“You’ll be fine, you do know that, right?” Hizashi’s voice cuts through your line of thought, gently bumping his shoulder against your own in comfort, “you’ve prepared well for this. Trust yourself”. 

“It isn’t as easy as that,” you murmur, wringing your hands together tightly in your lap, nails harsh where they sink into sink, “adopting a normal cat is a big commitment. This is a person we’re talking about–”

“–and that’s why you’re going to be good for him,” he interrupts gently, “you see him as a human being, you care about his happiness and his autonomy. It’s literally your job to understand people. Those intentions will shine through”. 

You hum in acknowledgement, accepting that arguing with him would be fruitless. It’s in that moment that a staff member rounds the corner into the foyer, upper body turned slightly to look back down the corridor he had just emerged from. 

“Come on Shouta,” he pleads, clearly exasperated. After a few tense moments, felt with bated breath, the cat hybrid follows the handler out into the open. His appearance startles you to your feet, a twisted mass of excitement and nerves swelling in your throat. 

Shouta regards you thoughtfully from behind the man's legs as you approach, the distrust plainly reflected in his glare, lowered tail flitting back and forth. He’s much bigger in person, you think, and not just because of his voluminous coat. 

Shouta cocks his head as if to ask ‘well, what’re you here for?’ and while you hadn’t necessarily hoped it’d be the case, it's obvious that he is not going to take his human form for this conversation. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Shouta. If it’s alright I’d like to take you home with me today”.  

His ear twitches at the mention of his name, pupils thin and suspicious as he slowly appraises you. The irony of now wanting to be chosen by him doesn’t escape you, not after all his years of being overlooked. 

“I’m happy for you to stay in whatever form is most comfortable, I won’t mind. I work every day and can sometimes be sent out on house calls but—” your eyes flicker to the handler as you lower yourself to the ground, searching for some semblance of encouragement, before turning back to the feline “—you’ll have space for yourself and the freedom to do as you like, I’m not too fussy as long as everything stays clean”. 

You stumbled over the words, but all you can hope is that your sincerity reaches him. The silence is… contemplative. Not awkward, but tense in an anticipatory way. Shouta’s pupils begin to dilate as they glance over to Hizashi and then to the automatic sliding doors, taking up the entirety of his eye with what you assume is alarm. 

You rise to stand with a stiff nod, accepting his caution with a smile pulling tight against your cheeks. It’s then that you feel something rub along the back of your calves. The handler makes a small sound of surprise when Shouta curls himself around your legs, tail circling loosely around your ankle as he peers up at you expectantly. 

“Is that… a yes?” you ask. He softly butts his head into your shin.

It’s a yes.

Relief can be just as overwhelming as fear, you find. It washes through you, almost thrown off balance by the sudden weightlessness in your chest. Shouta follows obediently by your feet, refusing both your own offer to hold him and the carrier that Hizashi suggested with an indignant scowl, much like the one photographed for the public pinboard. 

As much as a cat could look indignant, atleast. 

Hizashi had been the one to drive you that morning, and you silently sent thanks to your past self for the forethought. Shouta appears to be much more at ease with you sitting beside him in the backseat, curled into himself atop a soft blanket that you’d laid out with him in mind. 

The journey home is agonisingly long, most of which can be attributed to Hizashi’s insistence on taking it slow, as not to startle Shouta. The cat himself remains unperturbed, eyes only opening to wordlessly glare about the vehicle’s back and forth rock over a speed bump. Despite the disinterest, you continue to tell him about all the things you’d set up for him at home. You reassure him of his own space and of the food you’d bought for him to choose from, looking in his direction every so often only to find him in the same position, breathing gently. 

To your pleasant surprise, Shouta settles into your home far quicker than expected. While most cat hybrids were notorious for their cautiousness, oftentimes taking a few weeks to truly feel safe in a new home, yours immediately claimed his spot on the sofa and didn’t move for hours as he slept. 

You weren’t sure when, or if, he would shift back. So you pulled an old word card deck from your desk that you would use with non-verbal children to give him the chance to properly communicate. With some old tape found tucked away in your kitchen drawer of trinkets,  you stuck them up along the wall of the living room. He’d purred into your hand for the first time that evening as you mulled over his profile once more. 

It was fairly common knowledge that people preferred their hybrids to be cute, small and playful, and according to what the file detailed about Shouta he did not fit the bill. It was unfortunate but unsurprising to you that he had been in the centre for so long.

You curl your finger behind his ear, an endeared smile on your lips. He’s fine just as he is, you think. 

Your persistence and willingness to adapt to his animal form must’ve broken the ice, evident in the slow reveal of his personality to you as time moved on. During the first month you find that he’s far more affectionate than anticipated, opting to spend most of his time tucked under your arm while you are home. He’s undeniably fond of butting the soft parts of your body for attention and adamant about his disdain for cat toys, even after being caught playing with them. 

More notably, though he had a room of his own you’d often wake up in the middle of the night to the slight dip of your mattress, Shouta shaping himself into the space between your legs. 

It was becoming harder and harder for you to remember that he was not just a cat. 

You quietly let yourself into the threshold of your home, dropping your keys into the decorative bowl kept on the shelf above the shoe rack. As you bend down to pull off your shoes, finger hooked into the back of the heel, your breath stills at the unmistakable groan reverberating throughout the apartment.

Your instinctive reaction to the sound is fear and alarm, and with hesitance you slowly peek around the corner of the entryway, a clear view into the open living room. Arousal twists shamefully in your stomach, the sounds around you becoming much sharper as your ears hone in on the wet slap of skin. 

Your mind blanks. Shouta is lounging back into the couch cushions in his human form, head tipped over the arm of the sofa, pointed ears peeking from beneath his long unkempt hair. You had bought him clothes not long after bringing him home and while you’d never seen him in them, the discarded shirt is undoubtedly one you purchased, loose pants pushed haphazardly down to the middle of his thighs with a hand fisted tightly around his cock. 

Just this morning he had been kneading your breasts happily, and with the stark reminder that he was indeed an adult man, the act no longer seemed as innocent as you thought. 

He hasn’t noticed you yet. You tell yourself you’re being careful because you don’t want to startle him, that it’s innocent curiosity at seeing him for the first time, ignoring the familiar pulse between your own thighs. His chest rises with each breath, eyes squeezed shut with dark brows drawn together and his back arching as he presses his hips up. He looks frustrated, pink blotches scattered across his cheeks and chest, his cock painfully red. 

He’s handsome. Rugged. Certainly not the cute-sy kitten type you would associate with a hybrid, he’s built and tall and—

You bite the inside of your cheek roughly when he groans, drawn out and rough in his throat, as he cums over his stomach. Shakily and lacking in grace you stumble back around the corner and into the front door, leaning your forehead against the cool wood. 

Your thoughts are delayed, disjointed, and distantly you recall the research you’d done on male cat hybrid sexual aggression. It was natural, nothing more. He deserved that privacy. Exhaling heavily you wrap your hand around the door handle, opening it with an obvious click and shutting it again to give the illusion that you had just arrived home. The image of his trembling thighs flits across the forefront of your mind and you shoo it away hastily with guilt. 

“I’m home,” you call out, wincing at the quiver in your voice, giving him time to collect himself. When you step out from the entryway he’s gone and so are the clothes. A plaintive yowl sounds from the hallway leading to your bedrooms, and Shouta rounds the corner in his cat form, his gaze sharp and inquisitive as he approaches you. 

He couldn’t have known, you tell yourself, your smile tight and forced. He blinks and watches you disappear into the bathroom for a decidedly cold shower. 

Nerves alight beneath the sharp spray, you recall all the firm kisses to the top of his head, the press of your nose to his own, the way you’d cradled him in your arms. Embarrassment flushes through you, a stark contrast to the water nipping at your shoulders. 

He couldn’t have known.

Much to your relief, the days that follow show no sign of changing. You’d built a routine together unknowingly, and it had stuck. You did sometimes find men's clothes in your laundry that Shouta had clearly worn around the house in your absence, proof that he was starting to become comfortable shifting back, but you never saw him do so again. 

The image of his broad, heaving chest flits through your mind, and you press your thumbs into your eyes in an attempt to mentally push it back. You had bigger things to worry about than your attractive roommate. 

The glass of wine in your hand feels much heavier than usual as your eyes read over the file before you, absorbing absolutely none of it, only cataloguing the images of the small girl that had been pulled from her abusive home. She was covered in bandages from head to toe, traumatised and timid, unable to even look at the camera lense. 

Shouta slips under your arms with ease, a persistent and welcome habit of his, settling into the narrow space at the centre of your crossed legs. A few moments pass, and when you don’t immediately tend to him he pushes his nose into the underside of your jaw to garner your attention. 

“What is it?” you mumble, meeting his gaze and seeing the question behind his eyes. He sits back on his haunches and reaches a large black paw out to touch one of the more graphic pictures the hospital had taken for the little girl's casefile. 

You recall then that Shouta was supposedly good with children, and that he had been favoured by a number of young hybrids at the centre during his time there. It was entirely possible that he was worried for her. 

“I suppose I never did tell you what I do for a living, did I?” you say, more to yourself than to him. Most conversation with Shouta was undoubtedly one sided, and usually consisted of you rambling nonsense while he pretended to listen. 

“I’m a licensed child therapist. And her name is Eri,” you tell him, your index finger joining his paw above the photo, feeling a touch sober after having read the details even with the wine in your system. 

“I’m meeting with her for the first time tomorrow for an evaluation,” you explain, “let's just hope I can help her”. Somewhere behind his eyes something changes, shadowed with emotion and sombre. He presses the weight of his body against your chest and deepens his purrs, the vibration passing through your body and grounding you.

You hum thoughtfully, almost as if you were purring yourself. “You’d make a good therapy companion,” you muse, scratching the sweet spot behind his ear in thanks. You feel the small curve of his jaw against your collar as he peers up at you with interest. 

“You like the sound of that?”

He exhales heavily, exasperated, like the answer should be obvious. It doesn’t hold the same effect as it might if he were a man, only creating a mildly aggressive buzz beneath your skin that gave you the urge to squeeze him tightly. 

Eventually you head to bed, roommate close by your ankles and weaving between your feet, tail lifting to hook around your left calf as he did most nights. Throughout the first two weeks Shouta would still always attempt to sleep in his own room, or at least he pretended to, before joining you on your mattress. 

Now he was happy to be more blatant about it, and his company had quickly become of great comfort to you. 

It was all you could look forward to as you arrived home from work the following day. As if the atmosphere picked up on your inner turmoil, the heavens opened and it poured with rain, harsh droplets spitting against the car windows. You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting in your parking space, breathing stuttered and cheeks wet, you caught sight of yourself in the rear-view mirror. Withered, you think. 

Eri was a sweet little girl, but in all the wrong ways. Considerate, only for fear she would unknowingly do something wrong. Polite and quiet, but only so she did not say anything that would upset you. She recounted the horrors she’d had to endure as if it were entirely justified, promising to take responsibility for her guardians actions, because it had been her fault for misbehaving. 

You had worked with many children like her, and you’d had to attend numerous court hearings, but this one in particular had struck a chord with you. Keeping your expression warm and empathetic had taken an exhausting amount of effort. 

You blink away another swell of tears, grimacing at the soreness in your eyes and the sting in your sinuses. The thrum of the rain grows louder as you open the car door, keys in one hand, the other already dampening under the spray. With a deep inhale, you step out into the storm and prepare to run. 

By the time you reach the apartment you’re already forty minutes late and sodden. A spark of anger flickers in your chest at the way your clothing clings uncomfortably to your skin, but it is soon smothered as you step into the entryway. You’re immediately swaddled by a welcoming warmth and the familiar smell of laundry detergent, shoes squeaking awkwardly as you toe them off into the corner. 

It's too quiet.

“Shouta?” 

You call out to him, worried that you might interrupt another private moment, and it echoes throughout the hallway. Odd. You’re drawn further into the apartment as you hear a dull thud from the bathroom, calling out to him again cautiously. Your eyes fall upon a clumsily folded pile of clothes atop your dining table, recently washed and dried. 

“Where have you been?”

A low, rough voice cuts through the quiet and startles you, hastily turning on your feet and hand reaching for anything nearby that might serve as a weapon. 

A man emerges from the doorway to your bathroom. He’s tall, draped in shadows, and it isn’t until he steps forward into the light of the living room that you realise it’s him. 

It’s Shouta, in his human form, betrayed only by the pointed ears atop his head. Willingly human. His movements are hesitant, eyes curtained by his hair and hastily flickering back and forth across your expression in search of something. Anger, maybe. Or discomfort. 

Your lips part to answer him, to say anything, but the words don’t come. 

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No! No, of course not,” you wince as you trip over the words, unconvincing even in your own mind. He hums like he doesn’t believe you, an attractive glimmer of amusement in his eyes, the sleeves on his loose black shirt rolled up into the crook of his arms. 

“It was just… unexpected. I’m surprised, and a little embarrassed, but not uncomfortable!”

“Embarrassed?” he gently interrupts, head cocking slightly to the side in question, the length of his hair curving with the tilt. The gesture is one you’d seen many times before, so endearing and cat-like that you feel yourself fighting a smile. 

“Of course it’s embarrassing, Shouta. All those times I would carry you around like a baby, rub my nose against you and—”

“—blink really slowly as if it’s supposed to mean anything to me,” he snorted lightly, ears twitching, “it was cute”. 

Something akin to giddiness settles under your skin, and you feel your fingers curl into fists to stave off the restlessness. Part of you wants to bounce on the balls of your feet, soaking up the small fond smile that pulls at his lips. You’re reminded again of how awfully handsome he is, memories of his bare chest and stuttering hips flashing unbidden through your mind. 

You ached to reach for him. But there were too many unknown outcomes to that, many of which you didn’t want to deal with. Even with the knowledge that he was still your cat, touching him so affectionately would mean something more now that he was a man. 

“Thank you,” you tell him as you lower your head minutely, words a little thick with emotion, “for trusting me with this”.

Broad shoulders hunched slightly forward, Shouta tucks his chin towards his sternum as he awkwardly shifts the weight between his legs. “You were late. I thought something might’ve happened,” he says. 

He’d been worried about you. 

“I’m sorry, Shouta. I was…” you pause to inhale deeply, eyelids gently falling shut for a moment, opening as you continue to speak, “I needed some time to collect myself, is all. I should’ve been more considerate of you”. 

The silence that follows is thoughtful, comforting. Shouta finally approaches you, expression softened and cat-like pupils thinning under the light of the living room. The soft hair on your arms stand on end, the dipole between your bodies strengthening the closer he gets, a weightless sensation washing through your stomach. 

“I prepared a bath for you,” he murmurs, averting his gaze behind the safety of his hair, “I know you like them when you’re stressed. I pulled the cover across so it should still be warm”. 

Your lips part in surprise, remembering the freshly washed clothes folded atop the counter, and how the apartment had smelt strongly of your lavender bath salt. 

“And the laundry?”

He nods shortly, a little unsettled by the focus on his thoughtful actions, and so rather than lingering you move around him to enter the bathroom. 

“Thank you, Shouta. I’ll be sure to enjoy it,” you smile genuinely, softened like wax over a flame. He had brought far more warmth to your life than you initially expected, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

The tiles are cool beneath your feet even as you are slightly quivering from the rain, steam from the heated water clouding the mirrors, yet Shouta’s presence is far hotter. His magnetism doesn’t dissipate, it only intensifies once he begins to fall in line with your footsteps, following behind you.

As you turn to address him he moves closer, giving you no choice but to lean back against the tiled wall, crowded in the small space. Heart quickening and engaged in your ribs like a little hummingbird. 

“Shouta,” is all you can bring yourself to say, the scolding tone in your voice shaken, flimsy. His ears flicker at the sound of his name. Under the yellow tinted light of the bathroom you can closely see the scruff shadowing his jaw, the acute dip of a cupid's bow in his upper lip, the flecks of silver in his irises. 

“You can’t be in here with me while I bathe,” your hands press against him, feeling the heat of his body beneath the thin fabric, “I promise I won’t take long”.

“Why?” he rasps, reverberating under the pads of your fingers, “because now I’m a man?”

From a moral standpoint, being intimate with a hybrid was a grey area. Despite his humanity, he’s legally classed as a pet, and you his owner. There was a very clear imbalance in power and authority. 

And yet here —back pressed to the wall, palms laid flat to his chest but making no effort to push— it felt like you held no power at all. He ducks his face into the crook of your neck, nuzzling his mouth to your pulse, feeling the protrusion of his canines through his upper lip. 

“I won’t look if that’s what bothers you,” he continues lowly, “I want to stay. I want you to tell me about your day like you always do”.

It wouldn’t be fair to treat him differently based on his form, to avoid or change his routine simply because you were ashamed of your attraction to him. In doing so you would just be repeating the actions of everyone in his past, you rationalise.

His throat bobs as he swallows, waiting patiently for your answer. You remember how his head had tilted back in pleasure, how he’d sank into the couch cushions as he came. 

There needed to be boundaries. There had to be a clear line, more for yourself than for him, to maintain the peace you’d built together. 

“Alright, but I’m pulling the shower curtain across,” you assent, noting the relieved sag of his shoulders and how easily he moves away from you. It was as if he’d know the effect he has on you and used it to his advantage. 

True to his word, Shouta turns his back once you begin to undress, though it does nothing to settle the shame-dipped excitement in your chest. You keep your eyes on him even as you lean down to pull back the bath cover, inhaling the scent of lavender, coasting the tips of your fingers through the surface of the water. 

You’re helpless to hold in the groan of relief that falls from your lips as the water ripples against your shoulders, the level rising slightly to accommodate your body. You almost forget to pull the curtain across, lazy as you tug and the hooks getting caught along the divots in the pole. 

Completely covered, you give Shouta permission to turn back around. The sheet is pale, light enough to make out the shape of his silhouette as he seats himself on the floor facing the tub. 

You clear your throat, the sound echoing intrusively throughout the room. His inability to see you does nothing to ease your nerves. 

“Eri, the young girl I showed you last night,” when you were curled against my breast, “she responded to me better than I hoped. Her previous guardians are in police custody, and she’s going to be placed under protection”.

You hear his harsh exhale. “They hurt her,” he says. 

The water laps against the edge of the tub as you begin to lather yourself with bodywash, smiling sadly behind the privacy of the shower curtain. 

“Yes, they did. But she’s safe now and I’m going to help her the best I can”.

Over the waves, you hear his plaintive hum. The moment feels remarkably intimate, tendrils of steam dancing along your line of sight as you pull your knees to your chest, as if it would hide your vulnerability. 

“There were kids at the centre who’d been hurt too,” he mutters with an obvious air of guilt, “I wish I could’ve helped them more”.

Without thinking, you pull back the waterproof sheet just enough to show your face. His ears are slightly drooped, gaze solemn as he meets yours. 

“Your best is always enough, Shouta,” you press your breasts tightly to the side of the basin, wanting to be closer, wanting to embroider your words into his mind so he’d never doubt himself again. 

“Whatever good you did for those children, I assure you they will remember it”. 

You watch as his eyes widen, fingers curling into the fabric of his sweatpants. He shakes the hair from his cheeks, revealing pale splotches of pink, and your stomach tightens. 

Thinned pupils drag along the curve of your neck as a drop of water descends to your collar, reminding you of your own nakedness, and you quickly tug the curtain shut once more. 

“I’ve seen you get undressed multiple times you know,” he says, “you don’t need to be ashamed”. 

“Yes, as a cat!” you remind him, heat kindling between your thighs. He laughs. You want to hear it again and again. Eventually the sound tapers off into an amused rumbling, and you watch his silhouette shift from behind the sheet. 

“Is that how you’d prefer me?” he asks, “as a cat, that is”. 

Your brows pinch into a frown, hands cupped together to hold a small puddle of bath water in your palms, staring at the iridescent surface of the bubbles. Admittedly you’d gotten comfortable with him being a cat, enough to undress in the same room, but in the end they were one in the same. He was just Shouta — you wanted him to feel that same level of comfort, too. 

“I know you’ve dealt with people judging you prematurely for your human form, and for your age, but…” your wrists part, and the water falls through your fingers, rippling throughout the tub. 

“I care about you, Shouta, it doesn't matter if you're a cat or a man. This is your home too”. 

The atmosphere is weighted, but comfortable, intimate. While he seems to be processing your words you continue to wash the rain from your skin, quietly recounting the rest of your day to him just as he’d asked. 

If you held your breath and really listened, you could faintly hear him purring. 

As you later parted ways to your respective rooms you can’t help but notice the tension in the air, nor the delayed lingering in the hallway before telling him ‘goodnight’. Yearning sits low in your belly, twisted tightly into a hot coil. You tell yourself that the hunger settling behind his eyes was just a figment of your imagination and cling to the small mercy that even after all your time with him, he had only ever joined you in bed in his cat form. 

But then your door is being pushed ajar, the sound coaxing you awake, and Shouta stands tall in your bedroom doorway. Your sight adjusts quickly to the darkness, barely making out the anxious flick of his tail, or the way his hand tightens around the handle. 

There’s a silent standoff in which each of you waits for the other to speak first, stubborn and a little nervous, until eventually your exhaustion simmers into irritation. You lift up the other side of the quilt, and he begins to move. 

“You’re so spoiled,” you say, voice laden with sleep, mattress sinking under his weight. The cool air of your room is replaced by his warmth, laid on his side with an arm beneath the pillow as he faces you. You can’t see much, but he’s close — you feel his shallow exhale across your cheek, the way his muscles loosen and he relaxes into the sheets. 

“Maybe,” he murmurs, low and fond as he reaches to trace the curve of your ear, “you have no one to blame but yourself”. 

Your breathing hitches, stomach clenching at the unexpected touch. He clasps his thumb and forefinger around the shell, rubbing the cartilage gently, mimicking how you would pet his own ears. 

“You’re clever, Shouta,” his touch pauses as you address him, “you’re clever. So I know you’re aware of what you’re doing right now”.

Of what it means.

He hums with acknowledgement. The massage starts again, soft circular motions, only for his hand to slide down to the curve of your neck to rest over your pulse point. 

“You know too, and you’re still letting me,” he counters, a quiet and proud purr rumbling in the back of his chest. Behind the fabric of your bedroom curtains, a breeze guides the clouds east and the moon shines a little brighter. It reflects back at you in dark, feline eyes. 

His tail grazes against your shin, curling around your leg, body shifting closer until your noses touch. And he waits for your rejection, time held in suspension, but you don’t shy away from him. 

His lips are chaste and cautious on your cheek, as if he were dipping his feet into hot water to test the temperature. You hold the reins, you realise. He’s pausing, allowing the silence to reassure you that there would be an out, that he wouldn’t go any further without permission. 

“You already said that I’m spoiled, but…” he tucks his nose further into the swell of your cheek and nuzzles down along the line of your jaw “…I still want more from you”. 

Denying him would be to fight a battle you’d already lost. Before you’ve even processed his words you’ve tilted your chin to bare your throat, and he accepts, dragging the flat of his tongue across your skin. You moan, an inaudible exhale of his name, and the purring grows stronger — strong enough that you can feel it reverberate against your jugular. 

While his hands wander the length of your body, pawing at the dip of your waist, yours thread into his hair to keep him in place. He shifts his hips impossibly close until they are cradled against your own with his hard cock nestled between your bodies. It’s hot, heavy through the fabric of his sweatpants, and you feel him throb against your stomach as you toy with his ears.

The reality of where this was leading washes over you, thighs rubbing together to instinctively dull the incessant ache between your legs. 

“Shou… Shouta, we shouldn’t—”

“Then stop me,” he rasps, the words rough as he rolls his hips forward, “tell me to leave”. 

Against better judgement you can’t help but to hold him closer, to wrap your arms around his neck and press yourself forward to give him better friction. 

“Have you ever been with… with a…” your brows are taut with frustration as your voice fails you, his hand smoothing over your shorts to knead at your ass. 

“A human?” his fingers dip further, lower, “does it matter?”. 

You squirm away at his answer, and he chases you with a displeased growl. “Why? Are you jealous?” he asks, roughly hooking an arm under your knee to pull your thigh over his hip. Your bodies align, and he grinds forward, clothed cock pressing against your pussy. 

“M’not jealous,” you lie, moving to match his rhythm. The reciprocation pleases him, the harsh defensive lines in his expression softening, jaw slack as he breathes through the pleasure. Heat ebbs through you with every pass of his cock over your clit, the fabric saturated with arousal and clinging to your skin. 

“Kiss me”. 

He blinks lazily, gaze unfocused, a glimmer of confusion in them. You wondered if it was simply an unexpected request, or if his previous partners had never asked to kiss him at all. But you wanted it, wanted him, in every sense of the word. 

“Like this,” you gently take his face into your hands and guide him. The first is innocent, a quiet tribute to the way he’d kissed your cheek, a chance for him to pull away. He inhales with realisation, hips jerking forward as you part his lips, sighing into your mouth.  

He mimics your movements intuitively, though he is messy with it, sucking on your tongue and nipping the plush of your lower lip. He’s pleased to see you slick with his spit, to have you grinding on his cock, helpless between the feelings of embarrassment and want. 

His tail vibrates around your thigh, “fuck”. The muscles in your belly tighten, lungs filling as you gasp his name, your rhythm dissolving into a short rutting motion. You cum with nails tethered to his shoulders, limbs seizing and locking him against your front, a pitched moan catching in your throat. 

There’s no time for shame, because Shouta is already pushing you until you are laid flat on your back, his broad chest smothering you as he reaches to turn on the bedside lamp. 

The light bathes him in orange, mingling with the pink spreading along the length of his neck to his cheeks, giving him a peach tint. You drag your gaze across the dark, sparse hair of his chest, all the way down to the trail that leads from his navel beneath the waistband of his pants. The fabric is strained dark where his cock sits. 

You’re so lost in admiring him that you forget he can see you, too. It isn’t until his fingers are hooking into your shorts that you realise, hands quickly grasping his wrists with thighs clenching tight to his sides. His ears flatten with irritation, expression predacious and curtained by his hair. 

“Don’t hide from me,” he rasps, easily shaking off your grip, “let me have you. Let me see you this time, please”. 

“Ok,” you exhale shakily. Saliva pools beneath your tongue as you lift your hips for him, eyes firmly up at the ceiling, feeling the tight material slip down your legs and over your pointed feet. Then he’s there at the apex of your thighs, behind him the silhouette of his tail upright and trembling as he parts your knees. 

You watch as his stare lingers on your pussy with warmth blooming in your chest. No one has ever looked so mystified by you. You reach out to trace along his pointed ear, curling to scratch the space behind it. His eyes flutter slightly, leaning blissfully into your hand. 

“You’re so wet,” two fingers slide precariously through your folds, collecting your arousal and spreading it over your clit. He’s toying with you, touch fleeting as he barely dips inside of you, pupils dilating until his iris has been swallowed by black. 

“Please,” you whine, rolling your hips toward his cock in an effort to entice him. Whether he was inexperienced or just teasing, you couldn’t be totally sure — but it was less that he’d never seen a pussy, just more that he had never seen you. His thumb begins with tight circles, but when the pattern switches to a back and forth rhythm your toes curl, and he notices. Thick fingers sink into you, pulling all the way out just to feel how you beg him to stay, you jolt as they curl upwards and he notices. 

He was learning what made you feel good and adapting to it. 

Heat floods through your body as he slowly works you open, tail flitting restlessly like he were fighting his own instincts, purr still quiet but constant in his chest. It feels good, too good, paradoxically weightless while your muscles wring tight around his fingers. 

Still sensitive from your first, the waves of your second orgasm swell, your cunt pulsing obscenely with each pass of his thumb over your clit. Purposeful and steady with his rhythm, Shouta keeps his fingers moving as he leans forward to press your foreheads together. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” your chest rises and falls, your voice pitched, desperate as you near the crest. 

“Can feel it,” the words are breathless and thick in his throat, his eyes half lidded and refusing to blink, lest he miss the expression on your face. 

“I want you squeezing around my cock like this,” he rasps, and your muscles pull taut. Your jaw slacks, lips parting to shape around a silent moan, and you cum on his fingers. 

Shouta rides you through the following ripples of your orgasm with his face tucked against your throat, purring a few decibels higher than before and the heel of his hand pressed to your clit. 

Mine, he’s murmuring, nipping gently where the vein in your jugular sits. Mine, over and over. And when he finally sits back, he slots his fingers into his mouth, lapping hungrily at the taste of you. 

You can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. It’s hot — he’s hot, and you’re too preoccupied with the cock straining in his sweatpants. He’s big, pulsing as you cup him in your hand, relishing how he chokes as you squeeze. 

“Want you,” you tell him, “need you to feel good too”. 

He grins then, wide and brilliant, as he uses his strength to suddenly flip you onto all fours. Kneeling behind you his sodden hands find purchase around your waist, leaning his weight forward and pressing you into the mattress, back curved like the spine of a bow as you present yourself to him. 

You fold your arms beneath the pillow and your knees slide further apart for him as you feel the head of his cock slide through your folds, the soft wet sounds sharp in your ears. He slaps himself against your entrance. 

“Do you have any idea how much I think about this pussy?” 

You bury your face into the sheets, flustered, both by his question and his tone. A hand moves to take a handful of your ass, rocking you back onto him, the tip briefly catching. You whine. 

“You make it so… hard not to,” he groans, slowly pushing the head of his cock in with his thumb, “I can smell it when you’ve touched yourself. Can hear you, even when you cover your mouth—”

He sinks into you, the press of his cock pushing the air from your lungs. He holds you in the cradle of his pelvis and folds his body over your own, forearms coming to rest either side of your head with lips ghosting the nape of your neck. 

“Shouta,” you moan. It’s the only thing you can think of, the only word on your tongue. 

“Wanna cum inside you,” he continues like he can’t help himself, grinding his hips in a circular motion against your ass, “want you to give me one more”.

Yes.

“Yes,” you reply breathlessly, rocking back into his movement, “please”.

He’s so close, moulded perfectly along your back, mouth moving against the shell of your ear, groaning obscenely with each long stroke of his cock. He fucks you deeply until you’re collapsing into the mattress, his weight overwhelming and comforting, the new angle indelible. 

He unravels you. The intensity is muted, your body limp and suspended in bliss. He pulls out until the tip kisses your folds only to rock forward once more, the force pushing you further up the bed. You’re going to cum again, you realise. It floods through you like the breaking of a dam, trembling hips lifting to exaggerate the downward arch of your back. 

Shouta’s pace stutters as your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, fluttering with each wave that rolls through you. One of your arms slips out from beneath the pillows to reach over your shoulder, fingers gently caressing his pointed ear, and a deep rumbling builds in his chest. 

You feel it when he cums, his hips slapping against your ass in a final thrust, his growl tapering off into a low, satisfied hum. Eventually the rigidity seeps from his muscles, the subtle undulating of his pelvis slowing to a complete stop as he begins to soften, and you grimace at the sensation of his cum drooling out onto the bedsheets. 

Unperturbed, Shouta begins to leave a path of chaste kisses from one shoulder to the other. “We can sleep in my bed,” he quietly offers, rolling you into his embrace. 

Finally able to get another good look at him, you take the time to admire the flush of red that has spread across his cheeks, your fingers aimlessly playing with the dark hair on his chest. His tail flicks your calf beneath the covers. 

“Well someone needs to eventually,” you reply with tired amusement. And he grins. 

Whatever this meant for the two of you — judgement and inner turmoil be damned — you think it’ll turn out alright.

[thenationofzaun]

Mylo took out his own feelings of inadequacy onto Jinx, and exacerbated hers.

I've seen lots of people say that Mylo was right in his belittling of Jinx, that he was only verbalizing a truth that Vi refused to see, or that while he could've been nicer when criticizing Jinx, his claim that she really was a bad luck charm that should be left behind was accurate. I disagree with this.

I can't stress enough that Mylo's constant bullying of Jinx revealed more about him than it did her. Mylo was an extremely insecure teenager who had little confidence in his own place within their group, who felt like he wasn't contributing as much as he would've liked to, and had a need to impress Vi, whom he looked up to. And he dealt with this by doing what a lot of insecure people do - belittle someone else who A) threatens their ego, or B) is an easy target (is weaker than them or has obvious shortcomings). This makes that other person the black sheep of the group, so they don't have to be. And Jinx fit both criteria.

In his very first appearance, you'll notice how often Mylo looks at Vi for approval. He's happy when she acknowledges him after his joke,

and then immediately looks to her when he successfully replicates her leap from one roof to another.

But during the actual job, it's clear that Mylo contributes very little. First, he takes too long to pick the lock on the door, and Vi has to kick it open.

Then, he has trouble distinguishing between valuable items and junk.

But you know who does know how to discern between items that are valuable and ones that aren't? Jinx. And Vi calls this out right in front of Mylo, embarrassing him. Notice how bothered he is by her comment.

Of course, Jinx goes on to make her own blunders during the job, but this just strengthens my point. Jinx fits criteria A) and B). She has valuable skills that Mylo doesn't, and Vi, someone he admires, calls attention to it. And she's accident-prone and screws up in more obvious, explosive ways than he does. Of course he picks on her. It's a good way to draw the group's attention away from his own shortcomings and onto hers.

During the street fight later on (that Mylo carelessly provoked), Vi and Claggor come out on top like badasses. Meanwhile, Mylo struggles and Vi has to save him.

But what happens right after that? Jinx gets cornered and loses their entire haul, except for the crystals. Mylo is (very understandably) frustrated and scolds her for this, but his performance in that fight was second worst after Jinx. His treatment of Jinx is mostly genuine frustration at her mistakes screwing them all over, and partially a way to bolster his own low self esteem. Unfortunately for him, it doesn't quite work. Vi has taken note of all of Mylo's mistakes despite his best efforts to deflect the spotlight onto Jinx's. And she calls him out for them when he, yet again, begins insulting her little sister.

But even after this, he still insults Jinx the very next episode. Right after Claggor teases him about losing to Jinx in a shooting game.

Now, Mylo wasn't a useless screw up with nothing to contribute, and neither was young Jinx. Without Mylo, Vander wouldn't have gotten free of his shackles and been able to protect and save Vi. But to accomplish freeing Vander, he needed encouragement and positive reinforcement to boost his confidence in himself and his abilities (things he denied Jinx).

Mylo wasn't useless, he was just incredibly insecure that he might be viewed that way and desperate to shield himself from being perceived as such. So he ostracized Jinx, a younger, weaker person who made a lot of mistakes he could easily call attention to, who also made him feel a little threatened since she was skilled in ways he wasn't. It's a very human reaction, typical of an immature teenager. He doesn't deserve to be dragged through the mud, but in no way were his "criticisms" wholly true, needed, or helpful. They were the words of an insecure boy, desperate not to be deemed the weak link in the group. And they had a greatly damaging effect on Jinx's self worth and insecurities.

It's cool that Mylo is a character with this much depth considering he dies in the third episode. And this just makes me even sadder to see the effect his bullying had on Jinx, considering they both had very similar insecurities.

[bratz-kitten]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS PT. 7

gemini and pisces placements are similar in the sense that geminis are able to see things from all perspectives, while pisces are able to empathise with people who have all sorts of different perspectives. pisces placements... be careful with over-empathising with the people who hurt you to the point where you’re understanding why they did it and you start excusing their actions. gemini placements... be careful with seeking the multi-layers and million different perspectives in everything and everyone to the point where you’re driving your own mind insane and you don’t know what your opinion is anymore because you hyper-analyse so much. too much of a good ability becomes a curse.

people with venus-mars aspects have a talent for making people who hate them fall in love with them 💋

moon in the 11th house natives tend to attract friends who get into scandals. moon in the 10th house natives tend to be the ones who get into said scandals. it’s a PERFECT FRIENDSHIP

capricorn placements have a talent for knowing how to make things last. they want to prolong the enjoyment they get out of something for as long as possible, which is why their hobbies, friendships and relationships tend to last a lifetime... hedonistic sluts

since both the 7th house and the 11th house rule fandoms, celebrities with a 7th house or 11th house neptune can attract fans who view them as angels who can’t do nothing wrong — because of this, those celebrities rarely take accountability for their mistakes, since people keep pushing the “but they’re perfect :(“ light on them

pluto conjunct ascendant natives always come off as very serious during first impressions, no matter how approachable and inviting they strive to appear.

sun and moon in the 10th house people may feel as if they’re always exposed to the public eye, they can’t get away with keeping things secretive. others always notice whatever they want kept on the low. this can be especially frustrating if they notice that others aren’t exposed to the same kind of scrutiny that they are for simply existing

lilith in pisces bitches have a natural talent for appearing like angels even in situations where they are 100% guilty. it’s very easy for them to put on their vulnerable, lost puppy act lmfao, which triggers others’ protective instincts. they may be able to cry on cue when people call them out on their bullshit, making them feel like THEY’re the shitty ones for confronting the lilith native... it’s insane

lilith in the 12th house natives may feel as though the themes of lilith are trapped in their psyche, at the core of who they are and those themes become unavoidable for them — they’re always there, lurking in the shadows, becoming the center of their nightmares

people with mercury in the 1st house can feel veryyy threatened and defensive when someone possesses knowledge in an area that they don’t, it’s like it hits them right on their biggest fears. they often either try to “one-up” the other person in an attempt to heal their broken ego or shut down altogether in insecurity. it’s imperative that they work on developing a strong sense of self-worth because they can be extremely prone to comparing their mental skills to those of other people.

people with personal planets in the 12th house may feel as though a lot of their artistic drive is stifled by their lack of energy. like... in the mental realm there’s a lot going on and it’s incredible, but then you pick up a pen to actualize your visions and you feel exhaustion immediately overtaking you. it can feel like there’s a lot to your psyche that feels inaccessible to you not because you don’t want to explore it, but because you have yet to restore the energy to dive deep into it. this can be especially noticeable if there’s absolutely no 5th house energy in the chart

people with jupiter in an earth sign love being surrounded by greeneries in their home; they may take a lot of enjoyment out of taking care of plants, gardening, cooking and stuff of the sort. it makes them feel more grounded, independent, and even healed. they also LOVE scents that connect them to nature like the scent of grass and the ocean.

air mercuries can be very beware of strangers, they can feel offended when their friends make them socialize with someone they don’t know and it can take a hot while before they trust the person enough to lower their defences a bit. they need to know it’s safe before expressing their usual sexy eccentric selves in front of someone new. on the other hand, aries placements can also hate being introduced to new people through their friends but it’s mostly because they’re very territorial over them, and can’t stand the thought that this new person can hurt their friendship in any possible way

meanwhile, it’s probably an earth or leo/sagittarius mercury introducing new friends to the group. they’re so fucking good with people and it shows in how they make people feel welcomed so easily, it’s like they “take” the person in and adopt them into the group. they can’t stand seeing someone being treated like an outcast because they know how it sucks to feel rejected, so they’ll try their best to make you feel included

while on the subject of people who hate seeing others be treated like an outcast because they know how it feels like to be rejected: SCORPIO RISINGS. bro. people underestimate how chill they can actually be. if they see you being left out, they’ll approach you with no fucks given and do anything in their power to make you feel comfortable. they do so well in group settings.

and while on the subject of scorpio risings... i have a scorpio rising friend and he goes thru it on the daily. he often complains that people are always suspicious of him and that they seem repulsed by him, strangers on the street will stay tf away from him. and it’s so heartbreaking because his personality is so friendly and welcoming and it doesn’t at all match his intimidating appearance. scorpio risings have this energy that not many people can handle, others feel either really drawn to them or downright scared of them because of the “danger” element they seem to carry in them

i know two people who are both scorpio suns and libra moons and they look the exact same, even though they have different risings. brown, deep-set eyes, coarse dark hair, naturally tanner skin tone — and they have the same style as well, using lots of band t-shirts and dark clothing. scorpio energy is always so noticeable wherever it is i swear, it’s like it takes over the rest of the chart

gemini moons are what yall claim gemini venuses to be. like, seriously... have you ever met someone with a gemini venus? they don’t need constant stimulation or else they’ll get bored and cheat. not in the slightest; actually, they’re often incredibly loyal and crave longterm, committed relationships. if anything, they need stimulation outside of their relationship in the form of a good, exciting career and hobbies so that they don’t get too addicted to their partner and to constantly analysing every aspect of their relationship. gemini moons however, tend to have multiple partners throughout life and they often feat deep commitment. they can be huge players imo, IT’S THEM YOU SHOULD BE WORRIED ABOUT!

sagittarius placements are so... tactile? like, they love to touch things. when they go to stores and stuff, they’ll start holding everything that catches their attention— it’s like they can only decide if they want to buy something after thouroughly exploring how it feels, the texture and the energy that the object gives them through touch. and they talk so much with their hands. it makes me so anxious like bitch you aren’t selena gomez, i promise you that you CAN keep your hands to yourself

taurus placements are so weird to me, i can’t understand them. it’s like they’re afraid of exploring their own depths, which in turn makes me unable to explore them. okay, how do i put this... it’s like they have this preset idea of who they are and after deciding so, they’re unwilling to let go of it. “i’m the stable friend who’s here for everyone even when i can barely take care of my own self” and then that’s who they are: the people who are a steady rock in the lives of others, taking care of everyone. and then they refuse to change even after getting hurt. and then, it’s like... well, you can’t just be that. you are a human who contains multitudes, but i don’t think you give yourself enough credit on how layered you are. that fear of changeability, that need to be the one stable thing in a world full of unpredictability will only damage you in the end, because you won’t get to fully experience life’s greatest pleasure: knowing yourself. becoming your own best friend, exploring every layer that there is to your being. i think you deny yourself of that experience because you fear that, with self-learning comes self-growth which leads to transformation. and you fear transformation because you don’t want to change for the worst. but like... transformation is necessary and with that comes adaptability + flexibility, which are things you could greatly benefit from.

scorpio venuses can be so pessimistic— and when they’re in a dark mindset, it’s so difficult to pull them out of it. it’s so difficult to get them to see the good in difficult situations, and to help them believe that it gets better. but even if you don’t believe me, i’ll keep telling you; it does get better. you’ll get through this.

jupiter in the 4th house is an indicator of food having been an amazing part of your childhood; there might’ve been a lot of feasts and you could’ve had a parent who loved to cook. being well fed might be a huge concern for you now; you might get sick easily when you’re eating fast food and non-traditional plates.

mercury square uranus is an extremely difficult aspect to have because, in your earlier years, you might’ve felt dumb or like there was something wrong with your intelligence because you might’ve found school difficult due to it’s structured nature that didn’t fit with the way you like to learn things— you need to learn in an interactive way that piques your interest. your anxiety and any traumatic experienced that you faced could’ve heavily impacted your school performance. you might’ve had an ease with learning but then, when it came to doing the written tests, you couldn’t perform to the best of your abilities. either way, school might’ve been a source of a lot of stress and difficulty.

mercury square pluto can have some weird manifestation where, like... you suspect things but you always suspect the wrong things. i’ve met a few people with this aspect and all of them were extremely suspicious of the most random things who were literally normal and innocent. this aspect can cause a lot of chaos to one’s interpersonal relationships because you might find yourself suspecting your loved ones in the weirdest circumstances due to your trust issues, which in return causes them to lose trust in you + the want to confide in you because you keep questioning everything they’re up to WHEN THEY’RE NOT UP TO ANYTHING IN THE FIRST PLACE. probably the most frustrating thing that can happen with this aspect is when you always suspect what you shouldn’t, but then, when sketchy things are actually happening that should be questioned, you don’t bat an eye to it. omfg it drives me insane

moon conjunct the ascendant can make someone have a very delicate appearance that gives others the impression that they need to handle you like fine china or else you might break. my mother has this at a very tight orb and whenever i bring people over, their first impression of her is always “she looks so frail”. the native might be extremely sensitive to every minor inconvenience which brings a lot of frustration to them, a feeling that they can’t control their reactions and inner turmoil. it can also suck when you don’t want to be depicted as the victim but then that’s the way everyone perceives you. the native might have very expressive and shiny eyes, and they can cry easily. it’s very difficult for them to hide their emotions.

your jupiter sign can signify where you feel an overflow of energy. jupiter in cancer may feel like you have an overflow of nurturing and protective energy towards your loved ones, with a lot of intuition and need for introspection. jupiter in leo can make you feel like you a talent for self-expression and dealing with others, being overly dramatic and prideful at times, and with a huge drive to have fun. jupiter in virgo can feel an overflow of perceptive qualities, with a huge amount of self-awareness and also awareness of your surroundings, ability to constantly analyse and a constant strive for perfection (which btw is impossible since perfection is unattainable and you’re a human being who makes mistakes and that’s completely fine. stop finding flaws where there aren’t none).